


catastrophe

by bishounen



Category: Free!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Never Met, Fluff, M/M, cameos by nagisa and rin, makoto has an addiction of sorts, or is it an obsession? hmm, the rest of the boys are only mentioned, they're lowkey being Married and Domestic without noticing it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-11
Updated: 2018-08-11
Packaged: 2019-06-25 23:35:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 24,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15651231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bishounen/pseuds/bishounen
Summary: Makoto has a problem and Haruka is an enabler.





	catastrophe

**Author's Note:**

> hello hello. this is a repost! the story was originally posted in 2015 but i took it down when i cleared my entire profile last year.
> 
> with the new season being aired and all i am currently in a Big Makoharu Mood and finally sat my ass down to revise this baby! catastrophe is still my favorite big baby because it is the first long thing that i poured my entire soul into, and i was really happy that people liked it so much. i am sorry for everyone who was so nice and left a comment—especially the long ones—but i saved them all before i took the story down and i will hold them close to my heart forever!

 

 

 

 

**October 12th**

 

 

 

_Please don't tell anyone about this. I have what you asked me for, but in return I ask you to keep all of this a secret. Let's meet at the usual spot. The same time as always, alright?_

_ᴛ_ _̶̷̸_ _ᴀ_ _̶̷̸_ _ᴄ_ _̶̷̸̶̷̸_ _ʜ_ _̶̷̸_ _ɪ_ _̶̷̸_ _ʙ_ _ᴀ_ _̶̷̸̶̷̸_ _ɴ_ _ᴀ_ _̶̷̸_ _̶̷̸_ _ᴍ_ _̶̷̸_ _ᴀ_ _̶̷̸_ _ᴋ_ _̶̷̸_ _ᴏ_ _̶̷̸_ _ᴛ_ _̶̷̸_ _ᴏ_ _̶̷̸_

_\- T. M._

Haruka frowns at the small, green post-it, neatly tucked in between pages 44 and 45 of the typography book he plucked from one of the shelves in his university's library only a few minutes ago.

He slowly closes the book. It looks completely unused, probably rarely even borrowed, and it isn't particularly outstanding in its design either; the perfect place to hide a note like this, Haruka supposes.

Looking around nervously, he flips the book back open to page 45. His chair squeaks obnoxiously when he moves, causing a shiver to run down his spine. He's sure it's just the slight tinge of tension pulling at his nerves that is playing tricks on him, but he feels oddly watched.

There is not a single soul except for him in this part of the library.

He turns back to the book and studies the note again. It's a mess of crooked characters on crumpled paper and black ink everywhere it shouldn't be. While it has obviously been written in a hurry, with a nervously shaking hand perhaps, Haruka thinks that beneath the scrawly strokes and smeared ink he can recognize fundamentally messy handwriting.

The crossed out words at the bottom of the note have been scribbled over so much that, even by holding the small piece of paper against the light and narrowing his eyes at it, it's impossible for Haruka to make out what they say. The two roman characters right underneath the crossed through words are probably serving as some kind of signature only the writer and the recipient can decipher.

Haruka leans back in his chair, thoughtfully looking out of the window. He can see the campus from here; a girl trips and is being caught by her friends before she can topple over.

T.M. could be anyone, really. There's a Tanaka Masahiko in one of his classes, and the woman shushing people in the library is Toshiko Matsushima. It might be an alias, even.

He gives the note a last lingering look before he places it on page 45 and closes the book. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't interested, but for all he knows the message could have been hidden there months or even years ago. T.M. could have long graduated from university. And him being interested doesn't mean he's got the motivation to investigate.

More importantly, he doesn't feel like getting himself into trouble by being especially adventurous. In the 22 years of his life Haruka has been in trouble three too many times, but he's over it now, and he wants to keep it that way.

The feeling of being observed follows him until he's returned the book to its designated place in the shelf.

 

 

 

 

 

**October 13th**

The next day, Haruka finds that his usual spot in the library—at the far back, where it's exceptionally dark and he's got a table and a heater all for himself—is already taken.

He's just about to round a corner when he hears a rather suspicious whisper coming from behind one of the shelves. He stops next to it and listens.

"You said you got what I want?" a voice says.

Haruka knows he's heard it before, but can't quite place it. He carefully peeks around the shelf: there's a tall, brown-haired guy standing with his back to him, covering most of what Haruka can make out as Horiuchi from his art class.

"Geez, why do you look so nervous, Tachibana?"

 _Tachibana_ , Haruka thinks—he's never heard that name before, but he vaguely recalls the note that he had found yesterday. _T and M. Tachibana._ This is either exactly what he didn't want to get involved in, or it is an entirely different dubious scenario. He hugs the books he's carrying closer to his chest.

"Ah… I don't do this very often," Tachibana says and his voice sounds terribly uncharacteristic—not that Haruka knows anything about him to begin with, but judging from his looks—all soft and slightly high pitched. "I—I even got two. Here."

He pulls something—Haruka can't quite see it from where he stands—out of his bag and hands it to Horiuchi, who stares at it a little flabbergasted. "What the heck, Tachibana? How do you do this? This is _amazing_."

Tachibana's large hand comes up to scratch the back of his neck. "Um… ahaha… I don't know. It's actually quite easy."

Horiuchi just shakes his head in what seems to be a mix of utter disbelief and honest admiration, tucking whatever he got handed into his pocket.

"Oh, yeah, here. My part of the deal." Haruka narrows his eyes as Horiuchi takes out a thick, brown envelope and holds it up demonstratively, waving it back and forth in front of Tachibana's face. "You know there's more where this comes from."

Tachibana laughs shakily, holding his hand out for the envelope.

"Tomorrow at ten?" Horiuchi tilts his head, a mischievous smile tugging at his lips. He hands the envelope over. "Right here? I will bring especially good stuff this time. How many? 20? 40?"

Tachibana seems slightly uncomfortable when he answers, "I can't tell if you're making fun of me."

"I would never!" the other boy assures him, punching him playfully. "Come on, just say yes. I even got _this_."

Horiuchi fiddles with his phone, then holds it up so Tachibana can see it.

Haruka's bag scrapes along the side of the shelf when he tries to get closer. Before he can get a look at the display, he quickly ducks his head back, his heartbeat treacherously fast in his chest.

"Did you hear that?" Tachibana asks cautiously, and it sounds like he's turned around, speaking into Haruka's direction.

"Nah. This is the dead end of the library, no one ever comes here. Stop being so tense. Look at this. _This_."

Tachibana gasps quietly. "Knew you would like it. So?"

There's a moment of silence. Then, Tachibana says, "Okay… 20. If that's alright?"

"Sure thing. You know what to do?"

"Yes."

Clothes rustle, bags are zipped up. Eventually, steps move in the direction of the exit.

Haruka stays hidden until his breathing is back to normal and his heart stops thumping like it wants to burst right out of his chest.

 

 

 

 

 

**October 14th**

Haruka thinks it might not be such a smart idea to consult Nagisa about all of this, but when he tries to come up with a list of people he can actually talk to, he comes up almost disconcertingly empty.

Before he can change his mind, he sends his friend a message after breakfast.

 **(08:07 AM) Haru:** I think there are two guys dealing with drugs in the library

Five seconds later he gets a call.

"Tell me more!" is the obnoxiously loud—but not unfamiliar—greeting when Haruka picks up.

"I just told you everything—two guys, library, drugs," he says. "Don't yell at me."

"No, no, Haru-chan," Nagisa answers, this time a lot calmer. "I mean _everything_. Like, in detail." Haruka keeps quiet, which does exactly nothing to damper Nagisa's enthusiasm. "How did you find out?"

"There was a note."

"A note? What kind of note?"

Haruka picks up his pen and absentmindedly starts doodling into his notepad. "A message."

"Oh come on, Haru-chan, don't make me worm this out of you," Nagisa wails, his voice dripping with feigned exasperation. "Cooperate with me, please. I mean, you wanted to talk, right?"

Haruka sighs. Not because he's annoyed, but because Nagisa is right, so he tells him what the note had said and what Tachibana and Horiuchi had talked about, and that he isn't sure if the two things are even related. There is a long, dramatic silence at the other side of the line when he finishes.

He realizes that he's still holding the pen and looks down, sees that he's subconsciously written  _Keep all of this a secret_ onto the paper. He frowns.

"This is truly world-shattering," Nagisa finally says. "I didn't know Haru-chan was prone to eavesdropping."

"I am hanging up."

"No!" Nagisa screams into his ear. Haruka instinctively moves the phone away. "I am sorry. Please don't hang up, okay? This is honestly a matter of life and death. Nothing exciting happened in the past two months. I feel like I am going to die of boredom soon, Haru-chan! Don't hang up!"

Haruka is a hundred and fifty percent sure that Nagisa is much better off without any ‘exciting' businesses he can stick his nose into. He complies nonetheless. "I am not going to hang up."

"Oh, thank God." A sigh of relief. "I've spent the last five minutes developing this plan. Would have been a shame if it had gone to waste."

"Plan?" Haruka knew this was a bad idea.

"What did you say that guy was called? Tachibana?" Nagisa asks and hums.

"What plan?" Haruka repeats.

"Well, I say you and me are going to be at the library at ten. Coincidentally, of course," he explains. "Because, coincidentally, I need to get this, uh, book. Very important book. If we happen to come across two shady guys doing illegal business on campus ground while looking for that book, it's going to be pure coincidence, naturally."

In other words, he wants to spy on them. "I am not doing this."

"Haru-chan," Nagisa says, firmly. "How will we be sure if they're dealing with drugs if we don't see for ourselves? This might be the only chance we have."

Haruka isn't even sure if he really wants to know. This is Tachibana and Horiuchi's business, not his. What is going to change if they know drugs are involved? Will they tell on them? He'd rather not. That requires effort, which he's better off putting into things more relevant to his own life—he honestly doesn't care if some strangers he's never really talked to wreck theirs.

He's also, professedly, a bit scared. This Tachibana guy seems like he could snap his neck in a single hand movement if he ever were to find out that Haruka knows about his and Horiuchi's rendezvous. He shakes his head, half-forgetting that he's on the phone and Nagisa can't see it. "Not doing this."

"Then why did you call me?"

 _Because you're the only one I can talk to_ , he wants to say, but before he can even start to bring himself to actually say it, Nagisa speaks again.

"Well, I will see you later. In front of the library. For justice, Haru-chan," he says and hangs up, effortlessly nipping any kind of protests in the bud.

Haruka rubs the bridge of his nose, exhausted.

* * *

He indeed turns up at the library two hours later—mainly because he feels physically unable to let Nagisa do this on his own, secondarily because he was planning to study in the library anyway.

Haruka is pretty sure that Nagisa knows about his own inability to leave him alone, and he's also pretty sure that Nagisa is using this to his advantage. He's had time to figure out just how exactly to pull Haruka's strings for nearly twelve years now.

It's five past ten when Haruka is back cowering behind the same shelf he'd been hiding behind just the day before—now a bouncing Nagisa next to him—and their suspects are already fully immersed in their business.

"They're dead on time," Nagisa whispers while trying to look over a row of books. Haruka puts a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to still him.

It's a lot harder to concentrate on what is going on in front of him with this second, jittery individual at his side. They decided to watch Tachibana and Horiuchi through the tiny gaps and spaces in the shelf—since it's too risky to peek around it together—but Nagisa is a whole head shorter than Haruka and has to constantly stretch and stand on his tiptoes to be able to look over the books. This will probably, ultimately end with Nagisa tearing the whole shelf down.

"Haru-chan, look!" Nagisa almost says out loud and swats Haruka's hand off his shoulder. "They're exchanging something!"

Haruka turns back to the scene just in time to watch as Horiuchi fishes another envelope out of his bag. From this new angle he can see what Tachibana is holding out to him.

"A piece of paper?" he murmurs.

Again, Horiuchi looks at it as if it were something especially valuable. "The two from before were a miss, but I'm sure this one is going to be a hit!"

"Oh," Tachibana says and places the paper into his hand, accepting the envelope in return. "Good luck, then?"

"Pretty sure I don't need it, but thanks." A pause. "So, I guess that's it? Come to me if you need more. Shiraishi could help you out, too, you know."

Tachibana flinches. "You haven't told her, have you?"

"Relax. I haven't. I'm just giving you a heads up, ok?" Horiuchi says. "Well, I'm off. See you in class."

Horiuchi turns around, making to leave. Haruka grabs Nagisa by the collar and drags him to the left. Luckily, the side of the shelf is broad enough to hide them both.

"Dang, we couldn't see jack," Nagisa whines. Haruka feels warm breath tickling his neck. "What is the tall one doing?"

Haruka carefully peeks around the corner.

Tachibana has his back turned on him again and seems to be checking the contents of the envelope. Haruka is about to tell Nagisa to stop tugging at his sleeve, when suddenly Tachibana— still looking at the envelope in his hands—turns around and starts walking into their direction.

Haruka holds his breath, frozen in place. He only ducks his head when Nagisa nearly yanks his arm right off his shoulder.

"He's coming this way," Haruka whispers urgently. "Why is he coming this way?"

 _We_ _need to get away_ , he thinks next and grabs Nagisa by the arms, about to shove him backwards. He's being swung right back around by the smaller one though, eyes going wide, breath halting once again. _What is Nagisa doing?_

"For justice, Haru-chan," Nagisa croons into his ear and then pushes him forward.

Haruka bumps right into Tachibana, who yelps and instantly drops all of his belongings. Over the loud _thud_ of Tachibana's bag meeting the ground he thinks he hears a small giggle, but when he looks to his right, Nagisa is gone.

His head snaps back to Tachibana, who's now crouching on the floor, reaching out to gather his stuff. Haruka's unsure what to do, torn between just leaving this place and helping the guy, when his eyes wander over the chaos on the ground and suddenly land on the spilled contents of the envelope. Like in a daze, he automatically bends down in front of it.

"I—I'm so sorry. For running into you—I'm so sorry," Tachibana starts babbling, but Haruka is barely listening. Tachibana gasps audibly when he notices what Haruka is looking at and starts stammering, "U—Um, these are for, for, ah, they're not—"

A hand is being extended to quickly collect the contents of the envelope, but Haruka grabs Tachibana's wrist before he can do so—his own pale hand a stark contrast to the other guy's tan skin. His eyes still fixated on that one particular spot on the ground, Haruka blurts out before his brain has the chance catch up with his mouth, "Why cats?"

"E—Eh?"

Haruka can feel Tachibana lowering his gaze, and together they consider the many photos scattered on the ground; some of them still partly hidden in the envelope, each featuring the same grey cat with a light blue collar shot in different poses. It hits Haruka like a stone that these are, oddly and obviously enough, not _drugs_.

He realizes that he's still holding Tachibana's wrist and jerks his arm back, lifting his head at the same time Tachibana does. His green eyes are dangerously glassy, brows furrowed, lips slightly parted. Haruka is kind of mesmerized by the freckles covering his nose and cheeks until he remembers the matter at hand. He's come so far, he might as well go for direct and blunt confrontation now. "Where are the drugs?"

Tachibana's expression contorts into a mix of confusion and pure terror almost immediately. "Drugs?"

"The ones you just bought from Horiuchi."

"That's not… I didn't buy drugs from Horiuchi-kun."

Haruka frowns, unconvinced but significantly confused. "Then what…?"

Tachibana kind of uneasily looks back down at the photos.

_Is this supposed to be a joke?_

Haruka is aware that he's being extremely rude when he picks up the envelope, holding it upside down and shaking it until all of its contents are on the floor—although Tachibana does nothing to stop him.

It's only photos. Haruka counts them. "Twenty."

He remembers Tachibana and Horiuchi's conversation from the day before— _"I will bring especially good stuff this time. How many? 20? 40?", "Okay… 20. If that's alright?"—_ and kind of just flops down onto his butt, resigned.

 _All of this for cat photos?_ The thought alone is ridiculous in itself. Maybe this is a cover. But why, unless Tachibana knew they'd be spied upon today?

Tachibana sits down as well, slowly continuing to collect his possessions; a large notebook, a pen, a black glasses case. "You really thought I was buying drugs from Horiuchi-kun?"

Haruka feels silly all of a sudden, sitting on the floor of a library with a complete stranger, talking about something like this. If this is really as harmless as it seems, he's probably embarrassed himself big time, too.

Tachibana starts tucking the photos one by one into the envelope, and Haruka explains, "I saw you two yesterday, exchanging stuff. By chance."

"And then you... watched us today?" Haruka doesn't miss the careful phrasing.

"Not alone," he clarifies, as if it would make it any less weird of a fact that he deliberately turned up here and hid behind a bookshelf to spy on another person. He chances a glance at Tachibana, who's smiling faintly to himself.

"I honestly just bought these," he says and waves the envelope around, almost spilling the photos again. He squeaks, and Haruka feels like he's got a fundamentally wrong picture of Tachibana. "Oh, well, I guess I didn't actually _buy_ them. I did Horiuchi-kun a favor in return."

He recalls the piece of paper and looks at Tachibana, not daring to ask about it.

As if Tachibana read his mind, he starts explaining, "I got him numbers. From girls. It was hard to approach them at first, especially since I had to lie to them by pretending that I was the one being interested, but they always readily gave them to me. I wonder if they're being too careless… Like, shouldn't they be more wary?"

It doesn't sound like he's really asking him, so Haruka ignores the question. Instead, he silently wonders why Tachibana is being so positively secretive about all of this.

Tachibana smiles again, albeit  rather unhappily this time. "You're probably wondering why I am making such a fuss about a few harmless photos, right? Well… I may not have a problem with drugs in that sense, but… I think I'm sort of addicted to… cats?"

Haruka blankly blinks at him.

Tachibana flushes bright red. "Ah, I know it sounds weird, but I really, really, _really_ like cats. I probably love them, even—not like I love my family, but, when I come across a cat on the street, I cannot walk past it, I just have to pet it. Sometimes it feels like I am being drawn to them by some," he starts making nonsense gestures with his hands, "weird supernatural force, and I get all scared. One time I blacked out in the middle of my way home and the next thing I know is—I am kneeling down in a street I don't know, petting a cute orange kitten. That kind of like, you know? Ah, you probably don't, it must sound very bizarre."

Haruka turns away. Nagisa could write a 40-pages long essay about all the times Haruka has been magically drawn to the most unusual bodies of water. He's pretty sure that he knows 'that kind of like', but says nothing.

Tachibana carefully takes a photo out of the envelope and places it in between them, turning it so that it's the right way up for Haruka. He points at it with his index finger. "This is Mari-chan, Horiuchi-kun's cat. Horiuchi-kun is in my literature class. He's shown around a photo of Mari-chan two weeks ago. I just happened to catch a short glimpse of it, but it was love at first sight. I wanted to see more, so I asked him privately after class. It started with three photos, then suddenly it was ten. The batch I got yesterday contained forty pictures… I think I became a bit too greedy on the way. We agreed to exchange photos for favors. He's always with his friends though, which made it gradually harder for us to negotiate in private, so we came up with secret meetings."

There's a short pause in which Tachibana distantly taps the photo.

"I don't like making this side of me public because it makes people think I am some kind of weirdo. Well, maybe I am, I don't know," he continues. "I've been bullied a lot all throughout middle and high school because of this, but I've learnt from my mistakes."

Haruka watches as the picture of Mari-chan disappears in the brown envelope.

"Anyway, I am sorry for bothering you with this," Tachibana apologizes. "I probably made myself look really bad and I understand if you'd rather not associate with me ever again, but I would appreciate it if this incident could stay between us."

Tachibana is slouching slightly, head lowered in what Haruka supposes to be shame. He thinks that he looks very much like a sad puppy, and he knows that this is partly his fault. If he hadn't bumped into him today, he wouldn't have had to explain himself to Haruka. He'd undoubtedly be off somewhere happily ogling those pictures right now.

Haruka sighs and squeezes his phone out of his pocket. He flicks through his saved images, stops when he comes across a photo of a white cat licking its paw. He holds the phone out to Tachibana, who hesitantly accepts it. His eyes widen when he looks at the display.

"This is my cat," Haruka explains.

"She's pretty," Tachibana breathes.

"She? How do you know she's female?"

Tachibana bashfully scratches his cheek. "Sometimes I can just tell, haha…"

Haruka raises a brow. "Her name's Kyoko, but I call her Kyo."

Tachibana's gaze lingers on the display for another few seconds before he reaches his hand out to return the phone. Haruka stops him mid-way.

"Give me your number. I can send you a few pictures."

Tachibana's mouth opens and clothes silently. He looks ridiculous, but Haruka doesn't say anything. Tachibana holds the phone out towards him again. "No, I don't want to impose on you any more than I already have."

"You don't have to do anything. I just send you pictures… consider this as me making amends."

"Huh?"

"For thinking you were buying drugs." _Also for making you drop your stuff and making you explain yourself_ , he adds in his mind.

Tachibana regards him wordlessly for a moment before his gaze drops back to the display. "Alright. But really just a few pictures." He starts tapping his number into Haruka's phone.

Haruka secretly saves him as _Tachibanyaa_ and gives him a call. He's sure there are easier ways to exchange numbers, but he's doing this so rarely that this is the only one he's familiar with.

"Ah, um, what's your name, actually?" Tachibana asks, phone in hand, looking at him questioningly.

"Nanase Haruka," Haruka replies, squishing his phone back into his pocket.

Tachibana gives him an extremely sympathetic look before he starts saving his name, and Haruka is a millisecond away from snapping at him that he doesn't need any pity for his feminine name. He decides against it at the last moment, standing up instead.

Tachibana stands up as well, although in his case it looks more like he's unfolding. When he's completely upright, he's a good head taller than Haruka. Haruka uses the time Tachibana is busy arranging his clothes to stare at his concentrated face. Even though it's all scrunched up, there's still something terribly childlike showing through. Haruka thinks he understands very well why those girls aren't wary of him. He's also suddenly very convinced that it is ethically impossible for Tachibana to snap anyone's neck in a single hand movement—even though he still looks like he'd be _physically_ able to do so.

"Well. I'm actually here to study," Haruka says, gesturing over his shoulder to the table behind him in a manner of ending their meeting once Tachibana has finished dusting off his clothes.

Tachibana smiles at him, genuine but somewhat uncertain.

"I won't spill," Haruka reassures him.

"I know. I just know, which is  what I find strange," Tachibana says. Haruka tilts his head. "We've never met before, but I trust you, somehow."

Haruka isn't sure how to reply to that.

"Ah… so… goodbye, Nanase-san." Tachibana flashes him another small smile. "Thank you." He turns around without another word and starts walking, forks right and leaves down the hallway.

Haruka watches until he's out of sight, wondering what there's to be thanking him for.

* * *

He's just sat down at the table next to the window and taken out his textbooks when his phone vibrates. He's a little concerned at first because he gets the uncanny feeling that it's Tachibana who texted him, but when he reads that it's Nagisa, he immediately starts looking for the next nearby trashcan he can dump his phone into.

 **(10:47 AM) Nagisa:** haru-chan how did it go????  
**(10:48 AM) Nagisa:** it took that guy so long to leave the library. what happened??  
**(10:59 AM) Nagisa:** haru-chan??? did you forget your phone at home again  
**(10:59 AM) Nagisa:** or are u ignoring me

 **(11:00 AM) Haru:** Yeah, sorry, I forgot my phone at home. Will text you later

 **(11:00 AM) Nagisa:** oh god stop trying to be funny haru-chan  
**(11:00 AM) Nagisa:** and while ur at it, stop ignoring me!!  
**(11:00 AM) Nagisa:** i know ur upset, and i'm sorry, but it had to be done! Now tell me what happened!!

 _Not after what you pulled on me_ , Haruka thinks bitterly and ignores him for another ten minutes. If there's one thing that drives Nagisa up the wall, it's being kept on hold.

 **(11:12 AM) Haru:** Nothing happened

 **(11:13 AM) Nagisa:** sure. what took you two so long then? did he threaten you or something?  
**(11:13 AM) Nagisa:** oh, more importantly, was it drugs???

Haruka rolls his eyes. He's not sure how he's supposed to explain all of this without giving Tachibana's secret away. He considers his options for a moment and decides to go with the most scandalous thing he can come up with. He mentally sends his sincere apologies to Tachibana before he starts typing.

 **(11:13 AM) Haru:** It was porn. Kind of disgusting. That's why it has to be kept a secret

 **(11:14 AM) Nagisa:** seriously?? wow. that is intense  
**(11:14 AM) Nagisa:** didn't he look kinda innocent to you though???

 **(11:14 AM) Haru:** The inside counts. And the insides of that envelope were anything but innocent

 **(11:14 AM) Nagisa:** now you've got me curious

Haruka mutters a curse under his breath, staring blankly at his display. This is what he gets for lying his butt off.

 **(11:14 AM) Nagisa:** tell me more  
**(11:15 AM) Nagisa:** what kind of disgusting was it?? the one that is so disgusting that it disappoints yourself for being so disgusting??  
**(11:15 AM) Nagisa:** or the one that would disappoint ur mother if she knew

He ignores the text and puts his phone back, hoping that Nagisa lets him off without answering this one.

 

 

 

 

 

**October 17th**

Tachibana has made exactly zero attempts at starting a conversation by the time Saturday rolls around.

Haruka eyes his phone curiously from where he's sitting wrapped in a blanket burrito on his couch. The apartment complex' entire heating decided to go haywire on them during the night.

Haruka himself isn't really fond of the idea of approaching the guy first—he kind of promised him though, so he maneuvers his arm out of his shell and spontaneously sends Tachibana an old picture of Kyo watching the sunset.

The reply comes fifteen minutes later, just when Haruka is getting really into the documentary he's been watching for the past half hour. He blindly reaches for his phone when it stops buzzing, holds it in front of his face so that he can keep an eye on the screen while he reads Tachibana's message.

 **(09:02 AM) Tachibanyaa:** Nanase-san! That surprised me ━Σ(ﾟДﾟ|||)━  
**(09:02 AM) Tachibanyaa:** The picture is really cute, though…  
**(09:02 AM) Tachibanyaa:** Um, thank you?

He's not obligated to answer, and, truthfully, he's also not in the mood to. He drops the phone without averting his gaze from the TV and draws the blanket tighter around his body.

 

 

 

 

 

**October 20th**

Five pictures is the limit.

After exactly five pictures Haruka will stop contacting Tachibana, delete him from his contacts, and mark him down as a fleeting acquaintance.

All goes according to plan until picture number five is sent and Haruka finds himself sitting on the floor of his apartment with a new shot of Kyo that came out exceptionally cute. Tachibana would be thrilled if he saw it.

Haruka hasn't forgotten about the limit, but sends the picture anyway. His reasoning is simple: whether it's five or six pictures, what difference does it make? He might as well stop after the sixth picture.

Except—he doesn't.

If Tachibana remembers anything about their little arrangement and the 'just a few pictures' Haruka had proclaimed to send him, he does not mention it, not even after the tenth picture reaches him.

 

 

 

 

 

**October 25th**

In the middle of the second week, Tachibana sends him a picture of his burnt dinner on accident.

 **(07:19 PM) Tachibanyaa:** Oops. I'm sorry, Nanase-san, this was intended to go to my mother…

Haruka frowns at the screen and does him the favor of ignoring the faux pas.

Just like he's ignored any of his previous messages.

 

 

 

 

 

**October 27th**

The first time Haruka actually answers Tachibana is when the latter asks about the heart-shaped, brown spot behind Kyo's left ear after Haruka sends him a picture of her from another angle.

 **(09:22 PM) Tachibanyaa:** Nanase-san, did Kyo hurt herself? There's something on her ear…

He's strangely nervous now that Tachibana has directed such an explicit question at him. He could, technically, back out of this one too, but that would most likely result in Tachibana breaking his head over nothing.

 **(09:24 PM) Haru:** It's just brown fur. Shaped like a heart

 **(09:25 PM) Tachibanyaa:** Heart-shaped (◕▿◕)??  
**(09:25 PM) Tachibanyaa:** Can I… see it?

If Haruka were to pinpoint the exact moment this whole thing between Tachibana and him started going downhill, it would be the instant he moved from the couch to take a close-up of the mark on Kyo's ear.

He sends it to Tachibana without thinking, and suddenly it's like Tachibana has sniffed a chance.

In that polite, reserved manner of his that isn't at all pushy but generally hard for Haruka to ignore, Tachibana starts making weird requests—"Could you take a picture of this? Could you show me that?"—although by now Haruka is convinced that the guy hasn't forgotten about their initial agreement, but rather that his obsession has finally gained the upper hand in his behavior.

With this realization comes the conclusion that Tachibana isn't likely to stop on his own account unless Haruka takes action and exercises some restraint. While he is perfectly aware of this, he consoles himself with the thought that no actual harm is being done if he continues sending him pictures.

Consequently, they keep in contact until Tachibana approaches him with his fifteenth—or something—request a few days later.

 **(12:42 PM) Tachibanyaa:** Um, Nanase-san.  
**(12:42 PM) Tachibanyaa:** Could you maybe  
**(12:42 PM) Tachibanyaa:** take a snap or her paw? The underside… please? ⁄(⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)⁄  
**(12:43 PM) Tachibanyaa:** *of

 **(12:47 PM) Haru:** Give me a minute

It takes him approximately three eternities to make Kyo stay still and leave her paw in a position that is good enough for a photo. He's admittedly a bit frustrated and about to just give up on the mission after the seventh try, but decides to get this over and done with anyway. He's already positioned his phone, finger ready to tap the screen, when he halts, frowning.

Isn't this extremely stupid? He's doing all of this for a guy he doesn't even know the first name of. Honestly the only thing he's sort of figured out about Tachibana is that he's some kind of cat obsessed klutz that accidentally sends total strangers pictures meant for his mother.

Also, doesn't this make Haruka an enabler?

He's sent the guy a total of _forty-seven_ pictures in the last two weeks, and when Haruka looks back at their conversation log now, he thinks that he's actually slightly disappointed and disgusted with himself—even without any porn involved—although his mother would probably be delighted if she knew.

Until now Tachibana has given him no sign at all that he intends to stop this whole thing anytime soon, and Haruka doesn't even get anything out of this either—except for a lot of excited replies. Haruka is sure that he can't buy jack with excited replies.

Subconsciously, he starts probing the soft pads of Kyo's paw with his thumb.

In a sense, Tachibana is like a stray dog. If Haruka keeps feeding him, he will always come back, and eventually he will have to send him pictures until he's literally unable to handle a phone. Juristically speaking, this would be his death sentence. He's not sure if he wants this.

"Do _you_ want this?" He turns to Kyo, watching her expectantly. Kyo doesn't even look at him.

Haruka sighs and takes a snap of his palm instead. He sends it to Tachibana with a message.

 **(01:09 PM) Haru:** Go get yourself checked

He doesn't hear from him after that.

 

 

 

 

 

**November 9th**

Guilt gnaws at Haruka like a beast with dull fangs. It's unpleasant, makes him sleep less, won't let go—but it's never too much, never enough to push him over the edge, just a nagging in the back of his mind that haunts him in his wake.

It's been two weeks since he's last heard of Tachibana, which Haruka finds abnormally unsettling—after all this is what he was aiming at with his last message, right? In theory, at least.

While he might have looked for a way to break contact with Tachibana, it was never his intention to hurt him; especially not in such an impulsive manner. He knows Tachibana has had problems in the past, and now he's said something that might have opened old wounds. Haruka doesn't fully understand why it bothers him so much, but it is obvious that he's not ok with how things have panned out.

After he's spent the third night in a row thinking about Tachibana and cats until morning, he comes to the conclusion that this has to stop. Immediately.

 

 

 

 

 

**November 10th**

Haruka is vaguely aware of the fact that he's probably coming off somewhat crazy with his bloodshot eyes and the way he rather dramatically asks Horiuchi about 'that Tachibana guy' after art class.

"Tachibana?" Horiuchi repeats. "Tachibana Makoto?"

Haruka frowns. He's very positive that he just asked him for a guy, not a girl. He tries again, "Maybe her brother?"

Horiuchi looks at him like he's made an especially splendid joke. "Haha, yeah, Nanase. Tachibana Makoto _is_ a guy."

Haruka faintly recalls the way Tachibana had looked at him full of sympathy when he had told him his name, and then everything clicks into place. _Oh._

"What? You two have business?"

He looks away and hopes he doesn't have to elaborate or come up with a lie. "Kinda. Where do I find him?"

"He's usually in the library this time around," Horiuchi says and shoulders his bag. "I don't know where exactly, though."

Haruka nods. This is all the information he needs.

* * *

Tachibana doesn't notice Haruka when he approaches the table he's sitting at, nose-deep in some weighty tome. Haruka mutters a silent, "Excuse me," as he takes the chair opposite of him and puts his bag down on the floor.

Tachibana looks up briefly—completely unsuspecting—and nods before he lowers his gaze back to the book. It takes him a few seconds before he realizes that it's Haruka, eyes going wide. The book drops uselessly out of his grip as he looks up, confused. "Nanase-san?"

Haruka nods.

Tachibana splutters, hands darting out to collect his things. "I, um, I'm sorry. You can sit here. I was going to leave any—"

"Wait," Haruka says, although he has no specific idea how he should go about this. He's never been particularly good at apologizing. "I, well… I am actually here to…" He falters under Tachibana's inquisitive look, drops his gaze to where his hands are folded in his lap instead.

Judging by the soft thud coming from the other side of the table, Tachibana must have placed his things back down. "If this is about two weeks ago… I'm very sorry for bothering you, Nanase- san. I should have—"

"No," Haruka interrupts him again, this time determined to get his message across. _You have done nothing wrong. It's my fault._ He starts wringing his hands, face heating up slightly. "I'm here to apologize." After a moment of silence, he lifts his eyes marginally to look at the surface of the table. "For… you know…" He drifts off again.

"It's not like you were wrong," Tachibana says softly. "I've always known I have a problem. But I think you… you finally got me to do something about it."

"Do something about it," Haruka echoes. Tachibana did go this far? He expected him to be upset, yes, but not that he'd take measures.

"Ah, well, you see, I try to steer clear of cats nowadays," he explains, voice oddly rushed.

Haruka can't quite put his finger on it, but something about this doesn't sit right with him. _You have done nothing wrong._ He scowls at the table.

"And uh, I got rid of all the photos of Mari-chan… and other photos as for that matter… I—I even haven't been to the, um, cat café for a whole week," he finishes awkwardly.

Haruka looks up. Their eyes meet for a split second before Tachibana averts his gaze.

This isn't right. Apart from the fact that Tachibana comes off little convincing, this whole situation seems anything but how it should be. Cat-loving Tachibana steering clear of cats? Haruka feels angry for some reason. He's not sure if he doesn't want Tachibana to take such drastic measures, or if he just doesn't like being the reason for it.

"Come meet Kyo," he suddenly says, out of some weird, unexpected impulse; his mouth again faster than his brain. His cheeks warm up and he quickly glances down.

Obviously, this goes against everything Tachibana has been trying to convey in the last five minutes, and his reaction is accordingly. "What?" he rasps, flabbergasted.

"Meet my cat," Haruka repeats somewhat dryly, keeping his eyes stubbornly on the table. A voice in the back of his mind tells him that this might end in another ‘just a few pictures', but he ignores it.

Tachibana clears his throat and stammers, "I—I just told you, I can't, I'm trying to—to change."

He picks his book up again, probably to leave once and for all this time, but he's so hasty that it flops right back out of his hands. Haruka watches incredulously as it opens on a random page, revealing a batch of cat photos. He slowly lifts his gaze to look at Tachibana.

"I, uh, it's not what it looks like—I was going to get rid of them just now, I swear—"

"Don't," Haruka says and he's not even sure what he means with that; _Don't make excuses, Don't go on, Don't get rid of them, Don't be ridiculous_. "Just." He shakes his head, leaning back in his chair.

Tachibana is basically playing with open cards right now, and it doesn't help that they're all old maids. It's become more than obvious that what he's trying to keep up so vehemently is actually just a bunch of nonsense, but if Tachibana won't consent when Haruka asks him directly—out of false pride, or fear, or whatever—he has to approach this matter differently.

He decides to give Tachibana another option.

"And if I invited you to tea instead?" he offers, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

Tachibana gulps, visibly puzzled over the sudden change in topic. "… Tea?"

"Tea," he reaffirms, and then drops the bomb, "There might be a cat in my apartment, though." Haruka shrugs, giving him an expectant look. He's made himself clear with that. "Would you want to come?"

For a moment, it looks like Tachibana is going to decline the offer—a moment in which he silently regards Haruka with ceases between his brows. Then, his expression softens into something akin to defeat, and he says, "I'd like to."

And that's that.

 

 

 

 

 

**November 11th**

Haruka takes Tachibana along the next day. They're both free just in time for lunch, and Haruka offers to warm up the leftovers from the day before when they get to his apartment.

"I thought you invited me for tea?" Tachibana jokes while they're riding the train. He's evidently more cheerful after their little talk in the library. And he's apparently understood very well what this is all really about.

Haruka glares at him. Tachibana simply beams back.

* * *

"She usually sleeps in the bathroom while I'm out," Haruka explains and takes off his shoes. He's decided not to beat around the bush and get straight to business. Or, in this situation, get straight to Kyo.

In any case, Tachibana doesn't seem to mind. He excuses himself before he enters the apartment and follows Haruka. While he trails after him, he takes a quick glance at the place. There's nothing much to look at though; the hallway is small and leads into the living room that is simultaneously Haruka's bedroom, from which two doors lead to the kitchen and the bathroom respectively.

"She doesn't just… wander out?"

"She can't," Haruka answers and disappears into the bathroom. When he emerges, he's carrying a small, sleeping bundle of white in his arms. "I let her out when I come back."

Tachibana inhales deeply. "I'm so envious of you, Nanase-san."

 _Because I own a cat?_ He absentmindedly rubs circles under Kyo's chin and sends Tachibana a questioning look.

"Because you are _allowed_ to own a cat. We can't have pets in the dorms."

"Actually," Haruka starts and looks at his feet, "I am not allowed to keep pets in this apartment either."

"Eh?" Tachibana looks like he's momentarily going into shock. He gapes down at Kyo, then back up at Haruka. "But—"

"It's okay," he says to cut this conversation short. Explaining the complicated circumstances that led to Kyo's adoption would be too much trouble. "I'm pretty sure my landlord knows. But she likes me, so she lets it slip." He also doesn't mention the old lady that brings him cat food every now and then.

Tachibana still looks like he's going to scold him; lips pressed together in a thin line, brows furrowed. "Nanase-san, this is very irres—"

In that moment, Kyo stirs awake, and it's apparently impressive enough to effectively silence Tachibana. His face softens instantly.

Kyo lazily blinks up at Haruka, stretches, and then her head turns to idly regard Tachibana. Her ears quirk curiously. Tachibana gawks in awe.

"Can I… can I touch her?" Tachibana asks, and it sounds like he's somewhere far off; secluded in a space where it's just him and a cat, their mundane little argument completely forgotten.

Haruka rolls his eyes. "You can hold her," he says and lifts Kyo into Tachibana's arms.

 

 

 

 

 

**November 14th**

It turns out that Kyo is as taken by Tachibana as Tachibana is taken by Kyo—if the fact that they've spent a whole five hours all over each other is anything to go by.

The mutual attraction and the fact that Tachibana is a very decent study partner animate them to schedule another meeting three days after the first one.

"You know, Nanase-san, I lied when I said I got rid of all the photos," Tachibana casually tells him on their second meeting. He's very invested in a new kind of studying that includes a cat sprawled all over his textbook while it excludes every possible aspect of actual learning at the same time.

Haruka regards the scene with a scrunched up nose from where he's sitting on the sofa but says nothing. That Tachibana wasn't entirely honest with him on that day in the library is no news to him.

Tachibana starts fumbling with Kyo's paw, places it gently on his nose; his eyes cross funnily when he tries to focus on it, but then it slips down, and Kyo stares at him, unfazed. Tachibana stares back.

Haruka frowns. He's about to look away when Kyo lifts her paw and places it on the tip of Tachibana's nose on her own account. Tachibana is completely still for a few seconds, doesn't even dare to breathe—only when Kyo weakly meows at him does he breaks out in a smile so wide that Haruka's stomach does something irritably funny at the sight.

 

 

 

 

 

**November 16th**

Just how extreme the reciprocal affection between human and animal really is becomes relatively clear the third time Haruka takes Tachibana along to his apartment and they find Kyo already sitting attentively in the hallway—which is very much in contrast to the usual greeting (or lack thereof) Haruka gets whenever he comes home alone.

While Tachibana is delightedly cooing at her some 'Did you know I was coming's and 'Oh you are so cute's, Haruka cannot help but feel a bit offended at this revelation. He mopes all throughout their study session, but since they're working each on their own problems this time, Tachibana doesn't notice.

They eat the ramen they've picked up on their way earlier in silence, with Tachibana alternating between slurping his noodles and throwing a bouncy ball for Kyo.

When she's busy trying to retrieve it after it's rolled under the sofa, Tachibana turns to Haruka with a slightly crestfallen expression. "I've never seen a cat play with wool."

Haruka isn't sure what to do with this piece of information, but somehow ends up doodling a kitten and a ball of wool into his sketchbook while Tachibana watches TV to bypass the time until his train arrives. He wordlessly holds the sketchbook up for Tachibana to see when he's finished the drawing.

"Woah, Nanase-san, you are really good at this," he says and stares with wide eyes. "It looks so real."

Haruka shrugs. Tachibana rummages in his bag for his phone and holds it up like he's going to take a picture.

"What are you doing?" Haruka mutters and hides his face behind the sketchbook.

Tachibana sounds confused when he answers, "Um, I am taking a picture? Of the drawing."

Haruka peeks over the edge of the book. "No need to."

"Huh?"

He carefully rips the page with the drawing out of the book and shoves it across the table. "You can have it."

Tachibana makes a face like Haruka's just offered him a basket full of kittens. "Really? I—thank you!"

Haruka feels hot and uncomfortable under Tachibana's palpable excitement. "… It's nothing."

 

 

 

 

 

**January 4th**

Much like the picture thing, this new thing also slowly escalates into something regular. In two months they've somehow managed to meet at least once a week.

Haruka isn't even sure what exactly this new thing is supposed to be, although they mutually refer to it as 'study dates'—with benefits, in Tachibana's case.

While it is Tachibana who proposes meeting outside of university every single time, their study dates happen exclusively at Haruka's apartment. When asked about it, Tachibana simply answers "It's quiet here"—while he's got at least 90% of his face nuzzled in Kyo's belly—and Haruka just thinks, _yeah, sure_. It takes Tachibana three whole minutes to get his face out of the furball before he adds, way too casually, "And it's cheaper than the cat café."

Leaving aside the fact that Haruka, yet again, doesn't get anything out of this situation, he's at least learnt a few things about Tachibana in the meanwhile: he works part time three days a week at a grocery store not far from their university, he's sharing his dorm room with his boisterous childhood friend, and his family lives in a small town called Iwatobi—which offers, according to Tachibana, the best seafood in all of Japan.

Other than the things Haruka has gathered from Tachibana's little stories, there are certain traits he's noticed so far: Tachibana cannot cook to save his life, which probably is part reason for why he eats chocolate like it's a vital necessity, he daydreams a lot and starts humming when he's really into it, he likes video games and is frighteningly good at certain titles, and, the most crucial of all things, he good-naturedly keeps volunteering to do the dishes—even after he breaks Haruka's favorite cup.

Whereas Tachibana's qualities certainly do not lie in the field of the kitchen, he is virtually perfect at falling asleep at any given time and in various positions.

Sometimes Haruka can only just secure Tachibana's text- or notebook at the last second before he falls asleep right in the middle of his studies and drools all over it. Other times he sleeps on the floor next to the coffee table with Kyo curled up at his side, leaving Haruka to reluctantly side-eye the sliver of tan skin that shows whenever his shirt or sweater rides up his torso; or, in very rare cases, they both fall asleep on opposite ends of the sofa, just to wake up warm and clammy at two in the morning because Haruka forgot to turn the heating down.

"I am actually not a very sleepy person," he tells Haruka one time. "My roommate says I work too much."

Haruka silently seconds this.

* * *

It's not long until Haruka has a rather rare and involuntarily intimate encounter with a sleep-talking Tachibana on a rainy Thursday evening in January.

Haruka is sitting on the ground, scribbling notes into his textbook while Tachibana has already dozed off next to him, occupying almost half of the table with his head propped on his arm, big frame rising and falling evenly. Haruka had been able to pry the sheet he'd been working on from under his weight without ripping it. When he shoots a look at him now, drooling all over his table, he's glad he could at least bring the paper to safety. Maybe he should temporarily ban him from the coffee table.

Haruka moves to the side to grab his bag just as Tachibana's sleeping frame shifts and mumbles something incoherent, and for a moment he thinks he's woken him. He watches him from where he's half bent to the side, but Tachibana doesn't move any further. Haruka turns back to his bag with a frown when there's another mumble, this time clearer, "Haru-chan, don't go…"

Haruka almost falls flat on the ground. "What?" he chokes out and glares at Tachibana who's making grabby hands at nothing, eyes still closed but face skewed comically.

"Haru-chan, you can't do this," he babbles, and when his hand moves again, he knocks into Haruka's wrist and grabs it, not ungently, but Haruka still lets out a gasp at the sudden contact. "Haru-chan, listen to me."

The intimate nickname sends a wave of heat through Haruka's entire body. "Stop," he mutters and gently pulls his arm back, but Tachibana won't budge. _We're not even on first-name basis yet._

"Haru-chan," he repeats, and Haruka flushes even more. The palm of his right hand, balled into a fist, is getting clammy. "You can't jump…"

"Jump…?" Haruka whispers, confused. He stares at Tachibana and waits for him to go on.

"You've already used nine of your lives," he continues weakly. "Cats have only nine lives, Haru-chan."

All the color drains form Haruka's face, because, _yeah, this is about cats_. Obviously.

"You won't survive this jump…"

Haruka is about done now, and so seems Tachibana. He reverts to letting out strings of unclear words; his grip on Haruka's wrist lessens just so much that he can easily tug it free. He scowls down at Tachibana and puts all his irritation into the expression—which the cause of his anger unfortunately can't see, since it is still snoozing soundly.

He lifts his hand, uncertain for a moment. He considers simply shaking him awake, but before he knows it, he's already gone for pinching his cheek.

Tachibana startles awake at once. "I said don't jump!" He looks around quite alarmed, trying to focus in on his surroundings. When his eyes fall on Haruka, he sheepishly shrinks into himself. "Oh… um, why are you glaring at me like that, Nanase-san?"

Haruka narrows his eyes at him. "You drooled all over my table."

It takes Tachibana a moment to process what he's been told before he looks down, surprised, and frantically starts wiping at his mouth and the table. "Oh God, I'm so sorry."

"You also talked in your sleep," Haruka adds and slowly collects his things, watching Tachibana out of the corner of his eye. He just wants to know if he remembers anything.

Tachibana halts, abruptly. "What?" he asks, and when he turns to look at Haruka there's panic written all over his face. "I did—what did I say?"

"Something about a cat," Haruka answers and stacks up his textbooks. He can't bring himself to repeat the cat's name. "It was going to jump from somewhere."

Tachibana lets out a deep breath. He looks relieved, for some reason, but Haruka doesn't push the issue any further. Instead, he glances at the clock hanging on the opposite wall.

"Your train's coming in fifteen minutes."

Tachibana wipes a last time at his mouth and follows his gaze. "Oh," he exhales. "I should go, then."

Haruka nods and watches in silence as Tachibana gets up, walks into the kitchen, and places his cup into the sink. He turns on the tap, washes the cup, and places it back into its respective cupboard with instinctive certainty—like he's lived here for years.

Haruka suddenly feels wary at the sight, because he can't find anything unusual about it—about the stranger he's just getting to know fitting into his apartment like he belongs here—and comes to the conclusion that he is, frankly, a bit terrified at how easy it is to have Tachibana around.

 

 

 

 

 

**January 9th**

It's five in the afternoon when Haruka stands up from the sofa and declares, for the first time in Tachibana's presence and without preamble, "I am going to take a bath."

Tachibana takes off his glasses and looks up at him, brows drawn together. "Right now?"

Haruka nods. "Right now."

Tachibana's eyes wander to the clock. He frowns. "Uh… alright."

* * *

Haruka's been soaking in the tub for about half an hour before he realizes, grumpily, that he's forgotten to grab a fresh towel from his drawer. Sighing, he contemplates his options—and there normally would be exactly one (jump out of the bath dripping, walk to the drawer in the living room making a complete mess), but today there's Tachibana, his second option, and, _why not_.

He calls for him. "Tachibana."

"Yes?" is the timid answer, slightly dulled through the closed door.

"Can you get me a towel out of the drawer?"

It knocks a moment later. Haruka draws his legs up to his chest. "I'm coming in."

"Sure," Haruka mumbles and lifts his hand out of the water, watches tiny droplets fall from his fingers.

Tachibana comes in with his hand covering his eyes. The towel in his other hand is still neatly folded, and he holds it out like he's waiting for someone to take it from him. "I am just going to—to—oh—" He stops mind-sentence when he runs right into the sink.

"You can uncover your eyes," Haruka informs him.

Tachibana squeaks. "No need to. I can just—" He gropes his way along the sink with the hand that is still holding the towel. It drops to the floor a second later.

Haruka swallows a chuckle. "Just use your eyes, please."

Tachibana gulps. "Okay," he gives in, quietly, and removes his hand from his face.

Resting his head on his knees, Haruka watches attentively how Tachibana blinks away the light first, then how he makes a show of looking anywhere but at the tub.

When he bends down to pick up the towel, his eyes skim over Haruka for just for a second after all, and he freezes. He looks back up, almost comically slowly.

Haruka lets his left arm fall back into the water, giving Tachibana a better view of the swimsuit he's wearing.

Tachibana looks utterly shaken, and Haruka cannot decide if he wants to feel bad or amused. "I— _oh_." He keeps grabbing blindly for the towel, gives up after a moment or two, forces his eyes off of Haruka to pick it up. He stands, slowly, almost as if he's approaching a wild animal, and eventually hangs it onto the towel rack.

Haruka tilts is head, looks up at him with all the innocence he can muster right now, and blinks.

Tachibana turns around abruptly, runs into the sink again. "Enjoy the—the bath."

Only when he's closed the door behind him, Haruka presses his face back into his knees and laughs quietly.

 

 

 

 

 

**January 11th**

When they don't spend time together, they revert to exchanging pictures. It's not actually an exchange on equal parts though; Haruka takes pictures, Tachibana comments. Only in some rare cases Tachibana sends him a picture of a cat he's met outside.

"Stay like this," Haruka murmurs quietly to Kyo, who's draped all over his chest while he himself is lying flat on the ground. He'd been watching TV like this for about half an hour before Kyo climbed on top of him and claimed his torso her new sleeping place for the afternoon.

He blindly reaches for his phone, holds it up and takes a picture. Kyo's bum is cropped and about half of his own face is visible, but he sends it anyway.

 **(03:03 PM) Tachibanyaa:** Cute~  
**(03:03 PM) Tachibanyaa:** Can you, like, take the picture from further away please? ^-^

He's not sure why Tachibana would want that, but obliges. He stretches his arm as far as he can and snaps another picture; this time Kyo's behind is not cropped and his own face is completely visible. He narrows his eyes at the concentrated face his picture-self is making, but Kyo rolls off his chest—probably annoyed by his miniscule movements—before he can decide to retake the picture.

He sends it, and Tachibana's mediocre reply comes a whole hour later.

 **(04:01 PM) Tachibanyaa:** Very cute~

Haruka impassively blinks up at his phone before he lets his arm fall onto the floor. His back hurts.

 

 

 

 

 

**January 14th**

The first time Tachibana brings him along to his room at the dorms is also the first time he meets Matsuoka Rin and it's all sparks and annoying and exciting at the same time.

The small room is unsurprisingly tidy when Tachibana lets Haruka in, consisting of two neatly made beds on opposite walls and a desk for each resident. Haruka spots his drawing on the wall, along with a bunch of randomly arranged pictures of Horiuchi's cat and an orange calico.

Matsuoka, however, isn't present yet.

They're here to look for a particular book, actually, although Tachibana gets a little side tracked and ends up showing Haruka the distressing amount of cat magazines he's accumulated until it's almost six in the evening and Haruka wants to leave.

He and Tachibana stand up just when the door to the room opens and a redhead steps in, regarding the scene cautiously as he walks up to one of the beds. Haruka and he lock eyes as Tachibana begins to formally introduce them, "Ah, Rin. This is Nanase Haruka-san. Nanase-san, this is Matsuoka Rin."

Matsuoka nods but keeps quiet, inquisitive gaze still fixed on Haruka.

His eyes are as red as his hair; fierce, passionate, challenging. The more Haruka stares, the more restless he feels. His fingertips tingle with the need to do something, anything, and he clenches and unclenches his hand to make the feeling go away.

Next to him, Tachibana goes stiff under the sudden tension. "Eh…"

Haruka's gaze flicks down to the bag on Matsuoka's bed. He catches a glimpse of the goggles lying loosely on top of it. "You swim?" he asks and locks eyes with the other again.

Matsuoka raises a brow. "Yeah. Competitively. You?"

"I only swim free."

Matsuoka doesn't say anything, just grins at Haruka, revealing two rows of pointy white teeth. His whole appearance sets Haruka on edge; he's getting impatient, although he's not sure what exactly he's waiting for, and stares back, while Tachibana wrings his hands like he's afraid Matsuoka and he will start hitting each other in front of him any second.

"I was just about to go to the pool," Matsuoka says, and then, grin widening, "Race me."

Haruka is game instantly, doesn't even think, lets himself get carried away by the incentive fire that is Matsuoka's eyes.

* * *

Fortunately, no one actually questions why he's wearing jammers underneath his normal clothes, although Tachibana lets out a small gasp when he starts stripping in the locker room of the local indoor pool. He's seen him taking baths like this before, but appears no less shocked than the first time.

Matsuoka suddenly looks at Tachibana like he's only realizing now that he came along as well. His expression softens visibly, and Haruka thinks he sees something akin to concern in it.

"Makoto," Matsuoka starts and Tachibana wrenches his eyes off of Haruka's jammers to look at his friend. "You don't have to be here."

Tachibana forces his confused expression into an underwhelmingly reassuring one. "It's fine. I want to be here."

Haruka stubbornly continues to work his way out of his clothes, frowning petulantly at the floor. He feels like he's not supposed to be part of this conversation.

* * *

Tachibana displays his remarkable social skills when he regards the old people in the lanes next to Haruka and Matsuoka with apologetic smiles, assuring them softly that "they won't disturb them" and that "they won't take long." He's the judge for this race, watches from the poolside as Haruka and Matsuoka get ready on the starting blocks after they're done stretching and swimming a few easy laps.

The race is over as quickly as it had been initiated; Matsuoka beats him by about two seconds, but Haruka thinks this is a pleasant result considering he hasn't seriously swum against anyone—let alone trained—in at least two years.

With the end of the race comes a satisfied feeling. The fire that consumed his body and danced in Matsuoka's eyes has calmed down, and when the redhead grins at Haruka from the next lane and lifts his hand out of the water, he contently accepts the high-five.

"Good job, you two," Tachibana says. He settles down on the edge of the pool, legs dangling in the water of Haruka's lane, his hand almost touching Haruka's.

He's wearing some kind of baggy shorts—clearly not made for swimming—and a white shirt that is so damp at the hem that it clings to his back. From the way he's gripping the edge of the pool a bit too hard—tense, knuckles white, like he's trying to keep himself grounded at all costs—it doesn't look like he's going to join them in the water any time soon.

Matsuoka pulls himself out of the pool in one smooth movement and looks down at them, dripping water on the floor. "Sorry that I can't grace you two with my presence longer, but I'm actually supposed to meet someone here."

Haruka frowns at his back after he's turned around and watches him walk towards a figure standing next to the door to the showers. He questioningly glances at Tachibana before he can think better of it.

"His friend," Tachibana answers the unasked question with a smile. "They used to be in the same team back in middle school, but because of an injury," he idly taps his own shoulder, "they can't do any real races anymore, so they meet to swim casually every now and then."

Haruka nods, looking thoughtfully at the shifting surface of the water. The dimmed lights reflect brightly on it, and the ground of the pool is a distorted pattern of dark blue lines and ceramic tiles. He likes the view; the transparency and cerulean, the patterns and the reflections. It looks almost like art.

He lets his hand float just under the surface, feels how the water embraces it from every side.

"You really like water, don't you?" Tachibana asks, a meaningful smile on his lips.

Haruka turns his head, flustered, which is probably enough of an answer for Tachibana anyway. After a moment of consideration, Haruka asks, so quietly that his voice almost drowns in the sound of lapping water, "You don't swim?" He shoots Tachibana a sideways glance to see if he's even heard him.

Tachibana's smile falters for a second, and even though he gets it back just fine, he suddenly looks pale. Haruka already regrets the question. "No… I don't swim."

Haruka can't do anything but nod again. He won't ask him for his reasons when he's so obviously uncomfortable. "I'm going to swim another lap. No need to wait for me."

Swinging his legs, Tachibana replies, "It's okay. We can take the train together… I will wait here."

Haruka looks at Tachibana's hand, still clenching the edge of the pool. He's overcome with the sudden urge to touch it, maybe rub the tension out of it, but before he can entertain this thought any further, he ducks his head and swims the lap.

When he emerges, panting, Tachibana has already stood up. He's leaning down slightly, hand reaching out for Haruka to grab it. Haruka shakes the water out of his hair and lets himself be pulled out of the pool.

* * *

The train ride is awfully silent.

Haruka is used to silent, but not to awfully silent.

Awfully silent is the kind of silence where Tachibana sits bent-forward, elbows on his legs, staring at his phone with furrowed brows while his pointer finger taps quietly against the case.

Awfully silent is the kind of silence where Tachibana doesn't try to make conversation, doesn't even babble trivia, doesn't try to pry words out of Haruka every now and then.

Awfully silent makes Haruka send quick glances in Tachibana's direction, just to see if something changed, positively or negatively.

When after ten minutes there is no change whatsoever, he gets antsy. He tries to keep his eyes on the passing scenery outside of the opposite window, foot tapping in unison with Tachibana's finger and the rattling of the train, but it's hard for his resolve when there's also Tachibana's inert reflection in the glass.

He's so distracted with thinking about Tachibana and willing himself not to think about Tachibana that he forgets that the train's intercom is broken and that he should be paying attention to the digital notice instead.

Distantly, he makes out a familiar building in the blurred scenery, and he turns to the notice board in a quick motion that makes his neck hurt. He instinctively grabs Tachibana's arm, pulling weakly at his jacket, just enough to get his attention. "You missed your stop." The train must have stopped at least five times by now, and Haruka can't even remember two of them.

His eyes drop from the board to Tachibana, who looks back at him in confusion, then turns to the board himself. He lets out a soft _Oh_ in realization, and it's all Haruka hears from him before he goes back to being awfully silent.

Haruka tries to fight off the weird irritation that builds in the pit of his stomach.

Since he's sure that Tachibana will get off at the next stop, he tries to focus on the train this time. When it halts, Tachibana doesn't move. Haruka thinks he might be too lost in thought, so he nudges him and asks, "You're not getting off here?"

Tachibana looks at him, genuinely surprised, and it's probably the closest to a positive expression Haruka's gotten the whole train ride. "I thought I might as well walk you home. I can take the train back from your stop."

Haruka wants to scoff and tell him that he doesn't need an escort but settles for a judging look instead.

Unexpectedly, Tachibana smiles. It's not his usual smile but it's there, smothering the weird feeling in Haruka's stomach. "If that's okay with you."

Haruka knows it's not a question, and he knows Tachibana doesn't expect an answer, but he replies anyway. "Do what you want."

* * *

The walk to his apartment is as quiet as the train ride—probably even more so, since the only background noises in the street are their footsteps and the occasional car that drives by somewhere in the distance.

After half of the way, Haruka has finally enough of the silence. He stops in the middle of the street and does something he rarely ever does: he talks about himself.

"I was once banned from a shopping center for a whole week," he tells Tachibana, "because I wanted to swim in the fountain and splashed guests in the resting area when I jumped in." He's suddenly very glad that it's dark outside, keeps his concentration on his breath that comes out white and cloudy like smoke, counts the seconds until it disappears.

Tachibana halts, and Haruka can feel his eyes on him. "What?"

He clears his throat and tries to remember something. "I… I really, really like water. I like it to the point where I feel like I am drawn to it by some supernatural force, or black out in the middle of the street." He studies the fence of the house next to them. "That kind of like, you know?"

A car honks a few streets away, and somewhere in the middle of the long, blaring sound, Tachibana starts to chuckle. The light chuckle quickly erupts into full laughter, and Haruka tries to glare at him, but by now Tachibana has doubled over, hardly paying attention to him. Haruka resorts to rigorously studying the fence of the house again.

"You got—you got banned? From a shopping center?" Tachibana asks between breaths, still bent at the waist and holding his stomach. Another fit hits him right after he's straightened up. "I—I'm so sorry, I don't know why this is so funny, I know I—I shouldn't laugh about this, but…"

"It's fine," Haruka says curtly and adds, in his head, _this is better than you sulking, anyway._ He feels strangely accomplished.

Tachibana's breathing is hard and uneven once he's finally gotten himself together. "I'm really sorry for laughing—I think it's just," he gestures towards his head, "my emotions are all over the place." He pauses. "Is that why you wear your swimsuit underneath your clothes? Because you like water that much?"

There's simple, genuine curiosity in Tachibana's voice; no judgement, no indignation. Haruka expected this, somehow—because Tachibana really doesn't seem like the kind of person to be judgmental—but still feels pleasantly surprised at the reaction. He clears his throat again. "It's not… I mean…"

Tachibana patiently gestures for them to continue walking.

Haruka is privately glad about this, because now he doesn't have to awkwardly stand around while explaining. "I often got in trouble for committing public nuisance, but it's not like… I'm not stupid, I _know_ it's socially not acceptable to strip in the middle of a mall or swim in… in pools that aren't yours…" He pauses, takes a deep breath. "So, once I entered university, I stopped… being like this. I keep wearing my jammers mainly out of principle. And it kind of gives me the feeling of… of being closer to the water."

"Like you're ready to jump in at any moment, if you had the chance?"

Haruka looks at Tachibana, surprised. "Yeah. Yeah… kind of."

Tachibana hums affirmatively.

They fall back into a more comfortable silence until they arrive at the bottom of the steps that lead to Haruka's apartment.

"Thank you, Nanase-san," Tachibana smiles. "For trying to cheer me up."

Haruka looks away, mumbling something along the lines of "no big deal" and "I didn't even do anything."

There's another small pause before Tachibana begins to speak again. "Actually, there's something… I wasn't going to tell you because I didn't want to ruin the mood, but…" Tachibana's smile makes way for a more serious expression. His eyes darken and get distant, as if he's recalling an especially awful memory from his past. "When I was seven… the sea took a person that was very dear to me. When I was in high school, I almost drowned…" He exhales a long, white cloud of air. "I am afraid of water. This is why I don't swim."

The darkness in his eyes clears as he focuses in on Haruka, and Haruka grips the railing of the steps harder. If he had known…

"But seeing you swim today kind of made me want to swim with you, Nanase-san," he says, smile back on his face, as if he hadn't just exposed a very important part of his life to Haruka.

Haruka isn't sure what to say, shuffles his feet awkwardly.

"Well, oh," Tachibana says incoherently, probably to break the uneasy silence, looking down the street. He turns back around to face Haruka, sheepishly. "Can I say hi to Kyo?"

Haruka blinks at him. "Sure."

 

 

 

 

 

**January 16th**

"I think Rei-chan got himself a girlfriend," Nagisa says and shoves a half-eaten piece of strawberry cake into his mouth.

Haruka watches him chew and swallow from the opposite side of the coffee table.

"Rei-chan is basically married to his studies," he continues while curiously eyeing Haruka's piece of cake. "And now he's cheating on his studies with a real girl. Ridiculous."

Haruka sighs. His fork clinks against the white porcelain when he lays it on the plate and shoves it towards Nagisa.

Nagisa practically absorbs the whole set of cake and dishes as soon as it's in range. "What I'm saying is," a short, meaningful pause, "It's unfair. I've been trying to get a girlfriend for the last two years. Rei-chan's not supposed to get one _before me_."

"Ok," Haruka says and tries not to roll his eyes too hard. He stacks their used dishes, stands up, and turns to look at Nagisa out of the corner of his eye. "Maybe you should stop trying so hard."

"Ehhhh?" Nagisa's exhausted whine follows after him. "Are you serious, Haru-chan?"

The doorbell rings just after Haruka has dipped his hands into the washing water. He grunts and almost pulls them back out, but then Nagisa yells across the room that he's going to get the door, so he stays put, listening.

It's silent for a moment save for Nagisa's rushed steps and the soft drips of water falling from the tap into the sink. Then, the door opens, and Haruka hears Nagisa gasp. "Woah, hey! It's _you_!"

"It's me?" Tachibana's confused voice echoes.

Haruka's heart drops into his stomach, heavy and fast. He feels a little nauseous. Nagisa doesn't know the truth about Tachibana—he probably still remembers him as the guy with the affinity for disgusting porn.

Haruka yanks his hands out of the water, dries them sloppily, and stumbles into the hallway.

"Haru-chan, look who's here! Wait, how do you know where Haru-chan lives?"

Tachibana looks at Haruka helplessly, but Haruka is so taken by surprise that he can't think of anything clever to say.

"Oh, um, it seems inconvenient right now? Sorry Nanase-san—I didn't know you have a guest over, so—I should go. Bye—"

"Wait." Nagisa pulls Tachibana into the apartment and closes the door before he can bolt. "What is going on here?" he demands, looking from Tachibana to Haruka. " _Nanase-san?_ "

Haruka doesn't see the point of lying his way out of this. Without looking at Tachibana, he tells Nagisa, "We've met. A few times." Which is an understatement, but he's not planning to go into detail right now.

Nagisa's eyes go wide. "Met? This guy?" He looks up at Tachibana, almost two heads taller than him, and adds, "No offence, buddy."

Haruka nods. Tachibana fidgets.

There's a pause in which Nagisa thoughtfully studies them both. His brows furrow when he looks at Haruka. "Don't tell me it's because of what you told me about him. You know. His _secret_."

Tachibana squeaks. "Y—You told him?"

Surprised, Haruka looks up at him, but before he can explain that he in fact didn't tell anyone about his secret, Nagisa pipes up. "He did, but no worries, I'm not judging you. I mean, it's none of my business, each to their own, right?"

Tachibana seems even more uncomfortable than before, eyes shifting like he's deliberately trying not to meet Haruka's gaze. "I—I guess so…"

"I was sure Haru-chan wasn't interested in this kind of thing…" Nagisa muses aloud, making Haruka groan internally. "Can I see it?" he suddenly says, throwing himself at Tachibana and grabbing the straps of his bag without any consideration of personal space. "You know…"

"See? Like… what?"

"Anything," Nagisa answers, eyes glistening. " _An-y-thing._ "

"Well, I do have a few pictures on me right now…"

Haruka watches rigidly as Tachibana puts his bag down and rummages in it for a few seconds. He pulls out a little stack of photos—Haruka doesn't even have to look at them to know what kind of photos—and hands one of them over to Nagisa.

Nagisa takes it with shaking fingers, studies it for one, two moments. His smile falters. "Uh, so. Is this, like, 3D or something? Where you are supposed to hold it a certain way," he shifts the picture and looks at it from different angles, "to see the real picture?"

"Um, no," Tachibana answers, confused.

"But," Nagisa stares at him. "This is a cat."

"Y—Yes?"

Nagisa exhales and whispers, "Where are the boobs?"

Tachibana flushes red even before Nagisa has finished speaking. "What?"

"The porn!" A wink.

"P—" Tachibana chokes on the word and finally looks at Haruka, eyes overflowing with unasked questions. He voices the most important one, " _What_ did you tell him?"

Haruka crosses his arms in front of his chest, feels his face getting warm too. "I had to tell him _something_."

"So you told him—"

"Does that mean there's no porn?" Nagisa interrupts them.

"No," Tachibana and Haruka go in unison. They glance at each other.

Nagisa shakes his head. "I cannot believe you guys."

Tachibana sighs, runs a hand over his face. He places the rest of the pictures into Nagisa's hands, and when the latter looks at them in confusion, Tachibana tells him the same story he'd told Haruka in the library on the day they met.

Nagisa gapes at him. "You're into cats? _That's_ your secret?"

Tachibana nods.

Nagisa shuffles through the pictures, then looks at Haruka and back to Tachibana. "What did Haru-chan give you in exchange?"

"Huh?" Tachibana says, eyes flicking over to Haruka.

Haruka has a bad feeling about this.

"Well, he knows your secret, so do you, like, know one of his?"

"Uh…"

"Nagisa," Haruka warns, but his friend keeps on babbling.

"Which one is it? The one where he got banned from the shopping center?" Nagisa asks. Then, his eyes go wide with excitement, and somehow Haruka knows what is coming next, can read it in his expression. "Or is it the one where Haru-chan wore a girl's swimsuit in—"

He slams his hand over Nagisa's mouth in a desperate attempt to quiet him, but it's too late. A hasty glance in Tachibana's direction shows that he's very well comprehended what Nagisa has said, or at least is in the process of it—Haruka watches as Tachibana's green eyes wander down his body, can nearly _feel_ them on himself as they glide up again. When they meet eyes, Tachibana abruptly turns away—as if he's been caught doing something horribly illegal—and Haruka feels like he's been set on fire. The embarrassment and the humiliation engulf him like one large, hungry flame, causing his arms to go weak and eventually let go of Nagisa. Without another look at any of his two guests, he turns around and jumps onto his sofa and pulls the blanket over his body.

"Ehehe… oops. I'm sorry, Haru-chan," Nagisa chimes, but there's a hint of embarrassment and regret in his voice too. He addresses Tachibana, "Are you fine, uh—"

Tachibana makes a weird choking noise before he speaks, "Tachibana Makoto. Yeah, uh… I'm fine."

"If you say so, Mako-chan. I'm Nagisa, by the way."

They exchange pleasantries and Haruka almost laughs bitterly at the absurdity of it.

"Is Nanase-san fine, though?" Tachibana asks quietly.

Haruka wants to tell him that he can hear him just perfectly and, yeah, he's never been better, thank you.

"Don't worry, he's always like this," Nagisa answers in his stead. "He copes in strange ways. Did you know he wears jammers underneath his normal clothes?"

"Oh, yeah, I've seen that. I think it's endearing, though."

Haruka huffs in irritation. Why do they keep talking about him like he's not in the room with them?

"You have?" Nagisa sounds surprised. "So, are you, like, friends?"

Haruka throws the blanket off his body and stomps over to Nagisa and Tachibana. He snatches the pictures Nagisa is still holding out of his hands and pushes them at Tachibana's chest. "No, we're not. Now stop asking questions."

Tachibana's fingers brush Haruka's as he accepts the pictures. Haruka shoots him a startled look, and it's enough to see a shadow of hurt pass over Tachibana's face.

'We're not friends.'

Realization dawns on Haruka and he wants to crawl right back under his blanket.

That just might have come out the wrong way. But— _were_ they friends? He's never thought about it. He kind of just accepted things how they were; Tachibana coming over was just Tachibana coming over, Tachibana petting his cat was just Tachibana petting his cat, and falling asleep on the sofa next to Tachibana was just that.

Tachibana clears his throat. "Uh… we just study together, every now and then."

Haruka opens his mouth to say something, but doesn't know what, or how.

"Anyway, I should be going now. I'm very sorry for gatecrashing your appointment," Tachibana says and for a moment it looks like he's going to finish with a bow to end things politely. He shoulders his bag instead.

Nagisa is completely oblivious to the sudden change in atmosphere. "Nah, it's fine. I was going to leave, so you can stay." He goes to retrieve his bag and pats Haruka on the shoulder when he returns. "I will keep you updated about Rei-chan." Then he turns to Tachibana. "Bye, Mako-chan! Let's meet again, sometime."

"Sure," Tachibana says quietly, watching Nagisa close the door behind him. He looks at Haruka, unsure. "Is this okay for you?"

 _Why wouldn't it be?_ Haruka wants to ask, but he already knows the answer to that question— _Because he thinks you are not friends_. He ignores the voice in his head and manages a stiff nod.

Tachibana forces a smile. "Let's study, then."

* * *

They study until it's dark outside, exchanging notes and quiet words over the table.

When the TV changes to the seven o'clock news, Tachibana gently lifts Kyo out of his lap. "My train…"

Haruka briefly looks up. "Yeah."

He doesn't bother getting up when Tachibana does, he's never bothered—because Tachibana knows where his door is, knows how he gets there, can open it on his own.

Tachibana has never bothered to wait for Haruka. But today, he stalls at the table, keeps staring at Haruka as he scribbles into his textbook.

When he realizes that he's being watched, Haruka lifts his head.

"I'm sorry for coming to see you without notice, Nanase-san, I just thought…" he trails off, eyes drifting over to the television. "It won't happen again."

Haruka's heart pounds somewhere in his throat. He wants to tell him now, _It's okay if it happens again, I don't mind. It's okay if it happens again, since we're friends,_ but his heart seems to withhold even his voice for it won't come out when he opens his mouth.

"We will text each other later, okay? See you, Nanase-san."

Haruka watches him disappear into the hallway, listens as he puts on his shoes and zips up his jacket. Eventually, the door opens and closes, and Haruka sits listening to nothing but the quiet buzzing of the TV for a few moments.

He quickly leaps to his feet. Not even bothering with his shoes when he crosses the hallway, he opens the door with a little too much force and steps into the cold. Tachibana is probably too far away now, and Haruka is on the second floor, so he opts for leaning over the railing and looking down. He gasps when he spots Tachibana's figure walking off into the distance.

"Ma…" Haruka starts weakly, his voice dissolving in the air together with the white puffs of his breath. He inhales deeply, exhales slowly, and calls out to him again, "Makoto!"

Tachibana slips on a patch of ice, flailing wildly with his arms until he's regained balance. He turns around, but it's too dark for Haruka to make out his face.

This fact unfortunately doesn't go vice-versa—Haruka's movements triggered one of the automatic lights, and now he's standing there, quite literally, in the spotlight. He feels himself blushing, and the heat spreads further the more he thinks about what exactly he is doing here. Before he can change his mind, he takes another deep breath, "Call me… You can call me Haru!"

Tachibana's sharp intake of air is audible even though he's so far away, and it almost seems to echo in the silence surrounding them. "O—Ok?"

"Ok," Haruka says quietly, probably too softly for Tachibana to hear anyway.

"Then. Uh. My Train." Haruka watches how Tachibana turns around and becomes one with the darkness.

It feels like a burden lifts from his shoulders once Tachibana is out of sight, and he becomes all at once painfully aware of how hard he's gripping the railing. The metal is so cold that it burns into his skin, and when he tries to unclench his fingers they're stiff and they hurt.

 

 

 

 

 

**January 18th**

There's something that makes this first-name-thing feel like a strangely intimate affair. Haruka thinks that it's because Makoto used to be 'Tachibana' for such a long time, which used to imply a certain kind of distance between them. Now that they have officially upgraded to being friends, they also have to accept the closeness that comes with it.

Therefore, their first meeting after said upgrade proceeds rather awkwardly.

They manage to go without calling each other by their names for almost three hours. Makoto is the first one to dare the impossible.

"So… Ha—," he starts, but when Haruka interestedly glances at him, he falters and loses his courage, averts his eyes. "Have you finished the essay yet? The one you said was due to tomorrow?"

Haruka looks back down at his notes, nods. "Almost."

"That's good…" Makoto says, and it's silent again. Haruka already has his pen back on the paper when Makoto adds, meekly, "… Haruka…kun."

Haruka turns to him. This time, Makoto holds his gaze, although he's obviously flustered. "Call me Haru," Haruka says.

"Alright, but…" Makoto cocks his head, thinking. "… Haru-kun?"

Haruka makes a face.

Makoto blinks, blushing. "Haru…chan?"

"Drop the –chan," Haruka blurts and tries not to be affected by this. He turns his attention to his notes again. "Just Haru is fine."

"Your friend calls you Haru-chan," Makoto counters, sounding almost petulant.

"Makoto," Haruka says firmly. Technically, it's the second time he's called him by his name, but it's still his trump card, and he's hoping to cut the conversation short with this. He obstinately keeps taking notes. "Just Haru."

Makoto sounds significantly more upbeat when he answers, "Alright."

 

 

 

 

 

**January 20th**

"Haru." Makoto nudges his ribs with his foot. "Please sit properly. Your neck will get stiff."

Haruka's lying flat on the ground again, head turned towards the television. In place of an answer he turns onto his side and fights hard not to wince when his neck hurts at the change in position. Proving Makoto right is the last thing he's going to do tonight.

"Haru, please," Makoto whines and nudges his back this time. "You always do this. This can't be healthy."

"It's comfortable," Haruka lies through his teeth.

Makoto sighs. "Hopeless," he mutters, probably thinking that Haruka can't hear him. "I am going to make tea. You want some?"

Haruka jolts up in a second. "I will do it," he says, absolutely not because he needs to stretch his stiff body parts, but Makoto's light chuckle tells him that he's seen right through him anyway.

He doesn't bother with the lights since he knows his kitchen inside out, sets up water and rummages for the tea. He accidentally knocks down a box that has been sitting on the counter, teabags spilling with soft thuds on the floor. "Ah." So much for knowing his kitchen inside out.

A shadow denies him the sparse light that floods from the living room through the door. "What are you doing in the dark? You will break something!"

"Stop nagging," Haruka counters as he and Makoto bend down to collect the teabags. "You're not my mother."

"Fortunately," Makoto mumbles, and Haruka is half-offended and half-confused because he doesn't know how exactly he means the statement.

They stand up in unison, knocking their heads together. Haruka swears under his breath. "Fishsticks!"

Makoto, while rubbing his head, looks at him. "What was that?"

"Nothing," Haruka mutters, tosses the teabags back into the box.

 _"Fish sticks?"_ Makoto repeats, visibly amused. "Is that how you swear?"

Haruka sighs. "I used to live with my grandma when I was younger. She made me swear with words related to the sea."

Makoto breaks out into laughter, has to actually steady himself on the counter. He grazes the hot water kettle with his hand, chokes on his own laugh and hisses. "Ouch… Ah… This is what I get for laughing at Haru." He lifts his hand and gives it a pitiful look even though it's still too dark to see anything clearly.

Haruka turns on the tap, grabs Makoto's wrist and holds his hand under the cold water. "You should have just turned on the light when you came in here."

"True," Makoto admits. He steps closer, brushing Haruka's shoulder with his.

Haruka suddenly feels constricted in his tiny kitchen. He lets Makoto's wrist go and takes a step to the side—away from him. "Let's see if you need treatment for that."

 

 

 

 

 

**January 24th**

Haruka should know better by now not to push his body when the first signs of an impending cold announce themselves, yet he still ends up rushing to class after he's woken up with a sore throat and aching limbs. He pays the price in form of a bad, bad cold that hits him a day later.

He sends Makoto and Nagisa a message saying that he's put himself under quarantine until further notice. Informing them turns out to be—at least concerning one particular party—a mistake.

While Nagisa takes the news without a murmur, Makoto practically bombards him with concerned messages. Since Haruka doesn't have the physical nor the emotional will to respond to more than three of those messages, he unceremoniously decides to simply ignore the guy completely— which proves to be yet another mistake on his ever growing list of bad decisions.

Makoto apparently has hit his personal limit after one week of total abstinence and promptly turns up at Haruka's one afternoon. His cheeks are flushed from the chilly weather and he's carrying two plastic bags, looks at Haruka like he hasn't seen him in two years. Haruka tries to scoff but breaks out into a coughing fit instead.

"You didn't respond to my texts. I thought you were dead."

He glares at the plastic bags. "If you thought I was dead, why did you bring food for two?"

Makoto shrugs. " _I_ can eat for two." He pushes past Haruka and heads for the kitchen. "You sound terrible, by the way."

After eating, Haruka is so full that he dozes off on the couch.

He remembers vaguely that Makoto woke him up after a while to coax him into a bath, and from there on it's all a blur of things he cannot recall. According to an equally parts nervous and amused Makoto, Haruka has done or said at least one embarrassing thing, but no amount of prying gets the facts out of him.

Haruka remains concerned.

 

 

 

 

 

**Same day, Interlude**

Makoto stares at the still water in the tub before he lets one hand sink lazily into it. He makes a face at the temperature and draws the hand back immediately, wipes it on his jeans until the fabric turns a darker shade of blue. It's definitely not a temperature he'd take a bath in, only lukewarm and smelling distinctively like eucalyptus oil, but it's not like this bath is for him anyway.

He looks down at his hand for a moment, slowly lifting it from his leg; it's shaking slightly. He's come to hate the feeling of liquid on his hands, and on his worst days he finds himself almost neurotically rubbing them on his pants even when they're completely dry. He's surprised that he could hold out at the pool for so long. Somehow, with Haruka there, it had felt easier.

The living room is dark when he steps out of the bathroom. Haruka is curled up on the sofa, eyes closed and breathing evenly. Makoto thinks about just letting him sleep, but he knows Haruka would want him to wake him up, and a bath is certainly going to do him good in the state he's being in.

Makoto crouches down next to where Haruka lies with his head propped on his arm and shakes his shoulder softly. "Haru, I filled the tub. You can take a bath now."

Haruka stirs, opens his eyes and blinks up at him blearily. He regards Makoto idly for a moment before he says, mildly confused, "I fell asleep."

Makoto can't suppress the small giggle that rises up his throat. "Oh? I didn't even notice."

Haruka groans and turns his face to nuzzle it into the sofa, but as soon as it's buried, he grunts again, turning back to look at Makoto with a frown. "Can't breathe."

"Figures," Makoto says and watches thoughtfully as Haruka sits up a bit wobbly. He still doesn't seem to be completely awake just yet. "Come on, before the water gets too cold."

He stands up and waits for Haruka to follow, but the latter only rubs his eyes sluggishly.

Makoto bends down when Haruka mutters something under his breath that he doesn't understand. "What was that?"

"… wanna take a bath now…" Haruka mumbles and his hand stops rubbing, flopping back down as if it were a heavy stone. Two seconds later, he sways to the left.

Makoto reacts instinctively, arms reaching out to keep him from falling flat back onto the couch and hitting his head on the armrest. He's suddenly a bit worried, because Haruka seems to be a lot more tired that he'd thought initially. The cold must have gotten him really badly.

His thoughts are cut off short when two arms wrap around his neck and a warm body presses against his own. A very fleeting alarm goes off in Makoto's head and he freezes, his mind seconds away from hurling itself into a state of utter panic. This is the closest he's ever been to Haruka and it's… it's nice.

With this second individual now outright hanging down his neck, Makoto has to stem against the backrest of the couch to keep himself from collapsing right on top of Haruka. He hears him inhale deeply, followed by a small sigh. With the way things are proceeding, Makoto is almost sure that Haruka is going to fall asleep just like that. He brings an arm up to place it tentatively on Haruka's back, shoves the thought of how nice it feels into the back of his head, and begins patting it slightly.

"Haru… please don't fall asleep again."

"Smells nice..." Haruka suddenly gabbles into his shoulder, warm breath ghosting over Makoto's skin. "Stay like this."

Makoto almost squeaks, but all that escapes his mouth is a small hitch. He places his arm back onto the couch. "But I **—** I thought you were going to take a bath?"

Haruka hums. "'kay."

Makoto rolls his eyes and waits for another reaction. When he gets nothing, he presses, "So?"

"So?" Haruka repeats. "'s go to the bathroom."

 _At least he seems to have made up his mind_ , Makoto thinks, although Haruka still isn't budging. "Haru, you're clinging to me like a baby koala. I can't move."

Makoto can actually feel Haruka stiffen in realization after he finished speaking. The arms around his neck fall down in an instant, the weight on his shoulders suddenly gone. He's still got Haruka kind of caged on the couch as he looks up at him, now apparently a lot more awake if his wide eyes are anything to go by.

"Sorry," he murmurs before Makoto can say anything, and ducks under his arm to get off the couch. "Bath."

Makoto straightens, rubbing his neck awkwardly. "It's… fine."

 

 

 

 

 

**January 27th**

Kyo nearly abuses Haruka's groin area when she jumps for the toy he is holding up in the air, and he can't suppress the groan that builds in the back of his throat. "Careful."

"That sounded like it hurt." Makoto is sitting across from them on the floor, watching the spectacle with furrowed brows.

Haruka shoots him a glare that hopefully translates into an annoyed _You don't say_.

Kyo goes to stand on his left thigh, almost climbs up his shoulder while one of her white paws reaches for the toy. He lets it drop into his lap and Kyo leaps after it in a rather ungraceful pounce. Happy that she's found another target to abuse, he scratches her behind the ears.

Makoto grabs his phone. "Haru. Lift your hand."

Haruka frowns at him.

"Please?"

His frown doesn't ease, but he hesitantly does as asked.

"Put it next to your head. Oh, and make a fist."

Haruka balls his hand into a loose fist while he continues petting Kyo with the other. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing," Makoto claims, and Haruka catches the premonition of a mischievous smile before Makoto lifts his phone and holds it in front of his face. "Now tilt your head—to the right."

More out of irritation than curiosity he tips his head to the side, almost knocking into his fist in the process.

Makoto lowers the phone and shoots him an appalled look. "Would you please stop glaring like that?"

"Can't."

Makoto sighs. "Alright. Good. Photographer-san is going to take a picture right now, yeah? Say meow~"

Haruka is so into following whatever Makoto is instructing, just wants to get this over and done with, that he's already obediently opening his mouth, the word on the tip of his tongue. Then the shutter of the phone goes off and pulls him out of his trance.

Haruka shuts his mouth so hard that his teeth clack together. His hand falls limply on the floor. "You can't be serious."

When Makoto just looks down at his phone in amazement, Haruka abruptly gets to his feet—startling Kyo out of his lap—and vanishes into the bathroom to calm himself down.

He returns ten minutes later, almost running straight into Makoto who's standing uselessly in front of the bathroom door.

Haruka stops a few centimeters opposite of him and demands, sternly, while looking at Makoto's chest, "Delete it."

"Wha—why?"

"Delete it," he prompts again and scowls up at Makoto, who seems completely unfazed—even confused.

"Why?"

Haruka huffs. He didn't expect that he'd have to spell this out for him. "It's embarrassing."

"No," Makoto says, resolutely, and whips out his phone. "It's perfect."

"What?"

"Look," he says and points at his phone without taking his eyes off of Haruka. "Kyo looks like a cat. You look like a cat."

Haruka bristles when he sees the picture and turns away. "Kyo _is_ a cat. I am not."

"You _look_ like a cat!"

"I am not a cat."

"But you look like a cat!"

"So what?" Haruka snaps back, hotly, because he doesn't understand any of this nonsense.

Makoto looks about ready to burst, closes his eyes, and then almost yells, "Haru looks cute like that!"

Haruka is sure that, in this instance, Makoto looks just as hot and embarrassed as Haruka feels.

Without another word, he pushes past Makoto and heads for the sofa. He flops down onto it, wraps as much of his body into his blanket as he can, and turns on the TV.

From across the room, Makoto gives a small sigh and trots back to the table like a beaten dog.

 

 

 

 

 

**January 28th**

The incident is looked over in favor of Matsuoka's birthday party, which Makoto invites him to as his plus one. According to Makoto, it's supposed to take place at some club Matsuoka has rented for the night.

"I was hoping he'd celebrate small." Makoto sighs. "I'm stuck with helping him clean up the mess, after all."

"You could leave before the party ends," Haruka suggests.

"Haru. You know I can't do that," Makoto says.

"I can give you an alibi." He flips a page of the manga he's reading when Makoto throws a pillow at him. He tries to catch it without looking up from the manga, but it flies right past his hand and hits his head anyway. He blows some hair out of his eyes.

"You are evil. And the worst catcher I've ever seen."

Haruka shrugs.

Makoto hums. "So, are you coming?"

 

 

 

 

 

**February 1st**

The club looks mediocre from the outside: illuminated letters hanging above the double doors indicate the name of it, and next to the doors grow two lonely, poorly cared for plants. There's something like a miniature red carpet under Haruka's feet as he stands in front of the building, unfazed, listening to the music that is clearly audible even from the outside.

"Let's go," Makoto says next to him, voice raised. He opens the door and leads the way.

The inside of the club is dark and cramped—all Haruka can see is silhouettes against colorful, moving lights. Makoto turns around to shoot him a smile, then gestures into the horde of people. "Let's find Rin!"

They enter the crowd and Haruka automatically latches onto Makoto's jacket in order to not lose him. After they've crossed approximately half of the room, a group of people stirs next to Haruka, and just a second later an elbow hits him hard in the face. The impact is so great that he blacks out for a good ten seconds, and when he comes to he's half-sitting, half-lying on the ground. His vision is still an endless sea of black, and if it weren't for the dots of light—dragging hazy tails every time he moves his head—he'd think that he's still unconscious.

Some guy has his hands on his back, bracing him from behind. "Hey, you ok?"

He lifts his own shaking hand to his throbbing lip and feels liquid against his fingers; in the same moment he becomes aware of the disgusting taste in his mouth. He feels sick all of a sudden, and the dancing lights and the heavy bass that pulses through his disordered body don't help with that.

The arms on his back slowly lift him up. He tries to help out, but his head is still spinning and his legs won't cooperate.

There's another set of arms linking themselves under his own, and he faintly recognizes Makoto's concerned voice in front of him, "Haru? Are you ok? Can you stand?"

When he's somewhat upright, the arms on his back disappear, leaving only Makoto to steady him. With the hand Haruka's not pressing against his mouth, he fumbles for Makoto's bicep.

"Oh God, are you bleeding?"

He tries to nod, but even the simple motion is nauseating.

"Let's get you out of here," Makoto says and starts steering him away from the scene, keeping Haruka pressed close to his body while he parts the mass of people blocking their way.

He maneuvers him to the outside area of the club, a small terrace that is empty save for a bunch of stone blocks. Makoto sits them down on two of them and faces Haruka.

After taking a few, long, deep breaths, the fuzziness in Haruka's head slowly clears, although he feels slightly numb all over.

Their knees bump when Makoto leans forward. "Show me?" He gently pries Haruka's hand from his mouth and winces when he sees the full magnitude of the accident. "It looks like it's just a cut, but why is it bleeding so hard…"

Haruka lifts his blood-stained hand, regards it dazedly while Makoto takes hold of his chin and digs in his pocket.

"Can you open your mouth? We should make sure that your teeth are ok," Makoto says but doesn't really wait for a reply. He already has his thumb in the unhurt corner of his mouth, gently presses down on his lower lip to urge him to open his mouth.

Haruka obliges, opens it as far as he can. His lip and his jaw hurt. He tentatively probes against his teeth with the tip of his tongue, a wave of relief washing over him when he can't feel anything out of the ordinary.

"It does look ok, but I'm not a dentist…" Makoto muses, nudging against his chin to show him that it's okay to close his mouth. His thumb lingers on Haruka's bottom lip, starts brushing lightly over it. Green eyes blink questioningly at Haruka, and Haruka blinks back, very slowly. Then, Makoto asks, quietly, "Does it hurt? Your lip?"

Haruka realizes that he's blushing, cheeks unnervingly warm, and wants to hide his face. He looks away, nods. "A bit."

Makoto's hands are off his face in an instant, letting the cold air replace the warmth of Makoto's skin against his. He holds a tissue out to Haruka, waits for him to take it before he lets his arm fall into his lap.

They sit like this for a few minutes, knees still touching, the music and laughter from inside sweeping over them while Haruka tries not to think too much about the metallic taste in his mouth.

"How do you feel? Generally?" Makoto wants to know.

"I feel like my butt and the stone froze together," Haruka mumbles into the tissue. He shivers. "It's very cold."

Makoto smiles. "There's something… My mom used to do this back when I was a kid." He starts rubbing his palms together, breathes into them one or two times, then leans forward again and presses them against Haruka's ears.

Haruka's entire arm goes slack and he almost lets the tissue drop from his mouth.

Makoto's hands are warm and muffle the music to a point where it sounds like it's very far away, although Haruka can still feel the vibrations as if he were standing right next to the speakers.

One of Makoto's fingers travels through his hair, right behind his ear. It's a miniscule and probably unconscious movement, but it sends a shiver down Haruka's spine that has absolutely nothing to do with the coldness. He looks up at Makoto and notices that he's saying something. "What?" he asks, because everything—including Makoto's voice—is still merely stifled background noise.

Makoto needs a second until he's realized what Haruka means. His expression gradually changes from curious to something Haruka cannot quite place. The expression makes him anxious for some reason, makes him dig his nails into the fabric of his jeans in order to distract himself from the queasy feeling in his stomach.

Without taking his hands off of Haruka's ears, Makoto's lips move again, slowly, almost deliberately so. It's just a few words, but somewhere along the way Makoto starts blushing, and Haruka does, too, feels the heat from his ears spread to his face and neck. He suddenly isn't sure if it's the bass or his heart pounding in his ears.

"W—What?" Haruka repeats shakily, averting his eyes. He swats one of Makoto's hands away, and the other drops from his ear soon after.

"I… I was just saying, we still haven't seen Rin…"

Which is a lie, Haruka is sure, because he's paid attention to Makoto's lips this time, because he thinks he knows very well what Makoto has said, but it is something he cannot accept, will not accept so easily. "I want to go home."

"Ah… sure," Makoto agrees, oblivious. A pause. "If you wait just a bit, I can—"

"No," Haruka interrupts him, maybe a bit too harshly. He finally looks up, insisting softly, "You stay here. It's your friend's birthday."

"You're right…" Makoto's face is still red—Haruka tries to persuade himself that it's from the cold. His green eyes shift to Haruka's mouth. "Are you sure you will be fine?"

"It's just a cut." He removes the tissue and tries not to wince at the slight sting. "It stopped bleeding."

Makoto makes a face but nods. "Alright."

Standing up, Haruka looks around. He regards the low fence framing the terrace with a sense of relief of not having to force his way through the people inside the club again. He starts walking toward it, but Makoto stops him by grabbing his elbow.

"Hey," he says, retracting his hand when he knows he has Haruka's attention. "Give me a call when you get home, ok?"

Haruka nods, swings one leg over the fence. "Tell Matsuoka happy birthday from me."

* * *

Haruka doesn't bother with first aid once he gets home, nor does he give Makoto a call. Although he gets the feeling that he will regret this—in both cases—in the morning, he simply doesn't have the strength to actually care.

He ruffles Kyo's white fur when she pads toward him, sheds off his clothes and climbs onto the sofa without putting his pajamas on. He shivers under his blanket.

Sleep doesn't find him for at least another three hours, not even after he's pulled the blanket over his head to fend off the pictures from earlier. It's like the afterimage of a voiceless Makoto has burned itself into his retina; it follows him everywhere, and he can see it even when he closes his eyes.

When he's finally too tired to try steering his thoughts into a direction that isn't Makoto—his eyes restless behind forcefully closed lids—he gives up and lets the images flood over him. This time willingly, he recalls Makoto sitting in front of him, speaking soundlessly.

In his mind he traces the movement of Makoto's lips for eighty-nine times, then for the ninety-ninth time, and only then he dares to mouth the words quietly to himself, like a secret that has to be kept, right there under his blanket where he knows no one can hear him anyway, _"I like you."_

 

 

 

 

 

**February 6th**

Obviously, Haruka can't be sure if those were Makoto's exact words—since he's never actually _verbally_ heard them coming out of his mouth—which is why he spends four days going back and forth between "I imagined this" and "I'm not stupid, I know what I have seen."

There's a much smaller part of him that occasionally whispers at him "maybe this is what you wanted to hear", but he fights it off with all his might because, no; he's never once thought about Makoto liking him—he knows Makoto likes him, but he's not stupid, this is another kind of like, and he's never thought about _that_ kind of like—so why should he want to hear about it?

His phone vibrates in his jacket on his way home from grocery shopping.

 **(05:34 PM) Tachibanyaa:** Hey Haru, you alright? Something came up with my family and I have to visit them for a week. Can I come over tonight? Before I leave tomorrow?

 _Speak of the devil,_ Haruka thinks. He keeps staring at his phone's display for a minute. Only after he almost runs into a street lamp, he starts typing.

 **(05:36 PM) Haru:** I'm good. Fine with me

He looks down at his grocery bag, and adds, as an afterthought,

 **(05:36 PM) Haru:** Don't eat yet. I'll make dinner

* * *

"My mom's in the hospital, so I'm going over there to help my dad out," Makoto explains over a bowl of green curry. "Since he's got work and the twins to take care of, and all…"

Haruka nods, spoon digging halfheartedly into his own curry. He's not really hungry. "How is your mom?"

"Oh, she's fine. When I spoke to her on the phone, she actually tried to talk me into not coming. She tried to persuade me for almost two hours." He chuckles.

 _Sounds like something her son would do,_ Haruka thinks, and that's about it for their small-talk.

They finish dinner and do the dishes in another round of silence. Haruka laughs inwardly at the way their silences always seem to determine the mood between them—this time it feels heavy and oppressive, like they both have something important to say but are keeping quiet because they are waiting for the other to speak first.

Haruka knows that this has something to do with what happened at Matsuoka's birthday party. He can't let go of it, and so seems Makoto. He wonders where this is going to lead them, because at the moment, it doesn't look like it is going anywhere.

* * *

It's Makoto's turn to choose a video game. He goes for a beat-'em-up, wins ten out of twelve rounds. Haruka is used to getting the short end of the stick when playing against Makoto, so he says nothing, switches to some random show that is on right now, and goes to sit on the sofa.

He's just wrapped the blanket around himself when Makoto sits down at the coffee table with one of Haruka's manga. He frowns at Haruka. "Are you cold again? I was just going to ask you to turn the heating down…"

Haruka frowns back. "No. I _am_ cold."

Makoto just sighs in response, grabs the hem of his sweater and pulls it over his head, folds it neatly and shoves it under the table.

He's wearing a simple black tank top underneath, and when he moves his arm to smooth his hair back into position, Haruka sees them, on his shoulder—two small kanji that read _Family_.

Makoto catches him staring. He self-consciously touches the tattoo with his fingertips and explains, "Uh… I got it done with Rin two years ago. I got another one only a few months later, but…"

"But?" Haruka presses, unsure where the sudden interest is coming from.

"Well, it's…" Makoto trails off. He seems to think about something before he slowly stands up and turns to Haruka. For a second it looks like he's going to take off the top too, but he just lifts the hem and pulls a bit at his jeans to reveal the tattoo of an orca sitting on his left hip bone. "It hurt so much I decided this was going to be my last one. Ever."

Haruka swallows, looks only for a few seconds before he turns to pick pieces of fluff from his blanket. Makoto takes it as his cue to arrange his clothes and sit back down.

* * *

Makoto is the first one to doze off at around half past eight, face buried somewhere in the pages of Haruka's manga.

Haruka doesn't mind. For once, he cannot be bothered by Makoto salivating over his belongings, for he's bothered enough by Makoto himself. Haruka knows he's staring, staring everywhere—at Makoto's bare arms, the tattoo, his hair—and he's aware that he's staring differently too, is aware that he isn't looking at him like Makoto the friend; he's looking at him like Makoto the guy that is potentially in love with him, and he cannot help but wonder, when he looks at him like that, _If Makoto does like you like that, would you want that, all that, the arms, the tattoo, and the hair?_ The thought makes him nervous.

He has to actually pinch himself to get his attention away from Makoto, tries hard to focus on the television instead.

He follows Makoto's example half an hour later, when the show is so boring that he closes his eyes and forgets to open them again after he's counted to 60 in his head.

* * *

Haruka startles awake when his phone vibrates under his pillow. He groggily lifts himself up, digs under his pillow for the phone. He doesn't even get to read who's sent him a message—after he sees the time on the display he slides off the sofa and stumbles half over the table to shake Makoto awake.

"Hey, Makoto. It's almost twelve. Your train's coming in seven minutes." Makoto looks as sleepy as Haruka feels, but Haruka grabs him by the arm and helps him up. "If you miss this one, you'll have to wait an hour for the next train," he reminds him.

Haruka helps him collect his things, tells him to keep the manga until he's finished it, and shoves him out of the door. There's not much time for a proper goodbye.

"I'll text you tomorrow, or in a few days… When I have the time, alright?" Makoto says breathlessly, and Haruka wants to tell him that he's not his girlfriend, he doesn't expect or need Makoto to keep him updated at all times, but he keeps his mouth shut and then Makoto is already skipping down the stairs, shouting back over his shoulder, "Bye, Haru!"

Haruka is fully awake again by the time he's standing uselessly in his living room, alone, feeling suddenly a little lonely.

He calls for Kyo and she meows back at him from under the coffee table. He crouches down, frowning at her and Makoto's sweater that she's lying on. He must have forgotten it in the chaos.

"You can't sleep on that," he tells Kyo quietly, pulls both of them out. He lifts her up and sits her on the sofa instead.

Turning to Makoto's sweater, he regards it curiously. He holds it up, and it's probably one or two sizes above his own—it looks huge in his hands. He rubs the soft fabric between his fingers.

Even though he knows that it's ridiculous, that he has no logical reason to do this, he shakes off Kyo's fur and pulls it over his head.

It is indeed too big on him; at least another quarter of himself would fit into it still. And… it smells. Not—not bad or anything. He lifts his hand, presses one of the sleeves against his nose and inhales, yanks it back as soon as Makoto's scent hits him, making him realize just what exactly he is doing there.

"Why are you acting like this today," he murmurs to himself.

His doorbell rings while he's picking grumpily at the too-long sleeves. Concluding that there's only one person that would ring his doorbell so late at night—probably after hearing the little commotion he and Makoto have caused—he walks to the door and opens it, expecting the lady from next door that gifts him cat food every now and then.

He actually feels the blood drain from his face when it is not the lady from next door, but Makoto standing in front of him, watching attentively as Haruka freezes in the middle of rolling up one of the sleeves of the sweater that isn't even his. He swallows the lump in his throat, wants to ask Makoto what he's doing here, but all that comes out is a whispered, "I have no explanation for this."

Makoto blinks at him, shakes his head. "Sure. I'm too perplexed to ask about it, anyway."

Haruka self-consciously pulls the sleeve back down so that they swallow his hands, stares at his feet. The blood is slowly starting to return to his cheeks.

He can feel the coldness from outside on his face, but the rest of his body is warm, and he's not sure if it's because of the sweater or because he's so embarrassed about all of this. He silently curses himself for being stupid enough to not take the sweater off before answering the door—actually, he's stupid for putting it on in the first place.

"So, um, I'm actually here to get that back," Makoto notifies him, startling Haruka out of his thoughts.

"Yes," Haruka replies dumbly and does absolutely nothing to show that he understood what Makoto just said. Afraid that he's only going to make matters worse if he tries to operate his body based on the signals coming from his apparently broken brain, he stands still until Makoto makes a move like he's going to undress him with his own two hands. "Yes," he repeats hastily to Makoto's chest and finally pulls the sweater—not his sweater—over his head.

"Thanks." Makoto takes it. "Uh, I suppose you could have kept it, but I missed my train just to get it back, so…"

 _Is_ _he really going to apologize for claiming his own clothes back?_ Haruka shivers now, only wearing his shirt. _Wait,_ _I could have kept it?_

Makoto scratches the back of his head, not quite looking at Haruka. "I know it's late, Haru, but as you said, my next train comes in an hour, and I don't really want to wait at the station… if it isn't too much trouble…"

Something tells Haruka that it, in point of fact, _will_ cause trouble if Makoto stays around any longer tonight, but it's not like he can just refuse him based solely on the ridiculous feeling of his gut. Haruka clears his throat, "It's fine. We can watch a movie."

* * *

They both silently sit down on the sofa; Haruka leaning against his preferred armrest, legs crossed and facing Makoto, who sits a comfortable distance away from him, staring straight ahead at the television. He took off his jacket but still hasn't put his sweater back on, his bare shoulder and the tattoo perfectly visible for Haruka. He wants to turn away just as much as he wants to keep looking.

To escape his internal conflict, he busies himself with zapping through the program until he finds something that looks like a half decent movie.

Makoto has never told Haruka about what kind of movies he likes, but half an hour and approximately five jump scares later, Haruka is sure that horror isn't on the list—judging by the way Makoto has moved from the other end of the couch to lie half in Haruka's lap, his whole body trembling like a leaf in regular intervals.

"I can change to something different," Haruka offers quietly.

Makoto looks at him out of the corner of his eye. "N-No, it's fin—"

A scream from the TV interrupts him, and this time he startles so hard that it makes Haruka jump as well. He looks down at his hand that was lying loosely on his knee before, now in the grip of Makoto's.

Makoto realizes this soon after him, apologizing profusely.

When Haruka feels that he's going to pull his hand away, he tightens his grip, with no exact idea why.

Makoto looks back up at him, puzzled. "Haru?"

Haruka feels his hand get clammy where it touches Makoto's skin. He squeezes it very lightly.

They just stare at each other for a moment, quietly, the TV still running in the background.

Then, Makoto's face slowly changes back into the expression Haruka remembers so very clearly from Matsuoka's party; the one that made him nervous for some unknown reason, the one that initiated the little maybe-confession. "Haru…"

The air is once again heavy with the feeling of unsaid words pressing down on them—only that now it looks like Makoto is going to speak his words first, Haruka can practically see it on his face, and it scares him so much that he abruptly grabs the blanket with his free hand and throws it over his head.

"Eh? Haru?" Makoto asks from the outside and Haruka feels him pull at his hand again. He grips tighter in return. "Are you alright?"

Haruka doesn't answer. One part of him wants to let go of Makoto's hand and send him back to the other end of the couch, where he's a comfortable and safe distance away from him, while the other part—the part he doesn't understand—seems to have radically different plans.

Another scream comes from the TV, but this time Makoto doesn't even do so much as flinch. Instead, he slowly lifts the blanket and ducks his head under it. He stares at Haruka in the dark, and whispers, "Haru, what's wrong?"

 _What's_ _wrong?_ Haruka echoes in his head. _I have no idea what's wrong_. He suddenly wants to see Makoto's face, but it only occasionally lights up when the TV screen flashes white, and Haruka thinks, a little ridiculously, _That's the problem; I can't see your face, I can't see your face when it's dark._

Makoto moves to lean on the hand that is not holding Haruka's—his other hand which is somehow planted under Haruka's thigh, trapped between his leg and the back of the sofa; the padding dips where his weight presses into it. Haruka can very faintly make out the tattoo on his shoulder, and he quietly blurts out, "I like your tattoos."

Makoto lets out a breath that lands warmly on Haruka's face. "And I like the way you looked in my sweater."

The screen goes white again, highlighting Makoto's serious expression, and then Haruka says it even though he is afraid of hearing the answer, "Do you like me?"

This time, Makoto squeezes Haruka's hand. He hears him inhale deeply, "Haru, actually, I—"

Someone's phone goes off, presumably Makoto's, because Haruka doesn't recognize the ringtone.

Haruka has gone so stiff that he doesn't even flinch, although adrenaline rushes through every single fiber of his body, pulse going hard; he's sure he can even hear it throbbing in his ears. He watches tautly how Makoto removes his head from under the blanket, feels how his hand slips out of his own. This time, Haruka lets it go.

"It's my—my alarm," Makoto says, a little breathlessly. The ringtone stops. "I set it earlier, just in case." Makoto's weight lifts off the sofa, but Haruka can still feel his presence next to it. "Will you—will you be fine?"

Haruka manages a small nod, croaks out an even smaller, "Yes."

"Okay, um." The floor creaks under Makoto's feet. "I'm leaving. I'll text you—or something."

His footsteps slowly disappear in the direction of the hallway—there's a moment of silence when he puts his shoes on—then, the door opens and clicks shut.

Haruka doesn't move until it gets impossibly hard to breathe under the blanket. When he finally takes it off, tentatively, as if he's expecting Makoto to still be there in his apartment, the movie has already reached its conclusion, and Makoto is, indeed, no longer there.

Ultimately, the only thing that's left of Makoto is an unfinished sentence—three words, just like the last time—and a sweater, lying neatly folded on the coffee table.

 

 

 

 

 

**February 8th**

During the one week that Makoto is with his family, Haruka has plenty of time to think about things and Makoto—but mostly about things that involve Makoto—without actually having him around for once; without ending up under a blanket with him—platonically, in more than one way.

His unfinished sentence lingers in the room until Haruka has busied himself silly with it. He's tried to complete it like a puzzle—but what is a puzzle with an endless amount of pieces?

_Haru, actually, I'm an alien. Haru, actually, I don't even like cats. Haru, actually, I'm just here to eat all your food._

He could fill a book with the things he's pieced together within just two days, but there's one piece he hasn't tried yet, although it's been lying in front of his feet the entire time.

Carefully, while he lies in the darkness of his apartment and looks at the moon, he picks the piece from the ground, and completes the puzzle.

_Haru, actually, I_

_I like you._

 

 

 

 

 

**February 9th**

After three days without Makoto around, the situation in Haruka's apartment is starting to feel a bit off.

He can't shake the feeling that something essential is missing—actually, it's more than one thing, starting with the second set of dishes he no longer has to wash, or the second pair of shoes he no longer stumbles over, or the noises of another pencil writing on paper that no longer accompany his own, or the laughs and coos that are no longer softly whispered at Kyo in some corner of the room while Haruka watches TV, or—

One night, after he's grown so conscious of the silence around him, he actually stops in the middle of writing a sentence to make sure Makoto hasn't fallen asleep again—just to remember he isn't even there with him.

 

 

 

 

 

**February 11th**

After five days, Haruka thinks he might be going a bit crazy.

He's wearing Makoto's sweater for whatever unfathomable purpose and perks up hopefully every time the metallic stairs outside clatter, indicating the arrival of a person—just to go straight back to sulking on his sofa when the person doesn't stop at his door, doesn't ring his bell. He should know better than to expect anything, but it's like his brain has temporarily blocked out reason and logic concerning certain parts of his life.

He looks down at his hand, the hand that held Makoto's less than a week ago, closes it tentatively to recreate the feeling. It doesn't work.

It's not the noises he is missing. It's not the hand or the feeling he's missing—these things are just side effects to what is really missing.

When Haruka realizes that what he's really missing is Makoto, he's only mildly surprised.

 

 

 

 

 

**February 14th**

**(10:57 AM) Haru:** You forgot your sweater again

 **(11:02 AM) Tachibanyaa:** I noticed… I should probably come pick it up?

 **(11:02 AM) Haru:** Let's meet after your shift. I have late classes

 **(11:10 AM) Tachibanyaa:** Alright, see you then.

* * *

Haruka actually has a battle plan, but nothing goes according to it.

The very first point on said plan states: confront Makoto about what happened the last few times they saw each other, coax a definite, unambiguous statement regarding his feelings out of him.

What actually happens when Haruka arrives at Makoto's workplace is that Makoto still has half an hour of his shift left, and the atmosphere between the two is so awkward that Haruka forgets immediately what courage is and where to buy it.

The outcome is equal parts disappointing and fruitless, and the whole battle plan figuratively crumbles in front of Haruka's inner eye with the miscarriage of point number one—since the points number two (if favorable statement: tell him you like him back) and number three (make out) are build and contingent upon the success of point number one.

He busies himself with doing a quick round of grocery shopping, takes extra care of not touching Makoto's fingers as he hands him the money.

Makoto seems to be on guard himself, and he's not particularly better at hiding it than Haruka. If anything, he's probably more obvious than him; he carries Haruka's bags to the train and places them neatly between them when they sit down. Like a barrier.

Haruka eyes them warily out of the corner of his eye. The message is clear, but something about it irks him. Even though he knows that he's made every possible effort to keep his own distance, he feels stubborn and wants to take the bags away. He doesn't touch them though, and speaks quietly over them, "How is your family doing?"

Makoto seems surprised. He looks up, but not at Haruka. "They're fine. Dad handles pretty well, and mom's good to go in a few days."

Haruka waits for him to continue, because that sparse answer seems a bit uncharacteristic for Makoto. He realizes that Makoto most likely will not add anything to it when he looks back down at his hands. Haruka just nods at his reflection in the window.

They each take a bag when they get out of the train and walk the short way to Haruka's apartment in silence until they're at the metallic stairs.

"Should I wait outside?"

Haruka stops before he takes the first step, turns around to watch Makoto blow air into his free hand. "No," he answers, sounding so incredibly petulant that it makes him cringe for a second. Makoto is trying so very hard to get away from him that it bothers Haruka to a point where he wants to keep him here at all costs. "I can make dinner for us."

Makoto actually jolts at that, pulls his scarf over his mouth and mumbles into it. "Alright."

Pushing his bag at Makoto, Haruka digs in his pocket for the keys and starts walking again. He makes a show of downright stomping all the way up to the last step before Makoto begins to speak behind him.

"Actually, I don't really have much time today—and I'm tired, uh, so…" He almost runs right into Haruka's back as the latter stops abruptly.

Haruka sighs. He slowly lifts his head, looks up at the dark sky and the moon. He counts one, two, three stars, lets out a deep breath, and mutters, "Screw the battle plan."

"What?" Makoto asks when Haruka turns around to look down at him.

He hastily shoves the keys back into his pocket, then lifts his arms and lets them hover uselessly in the air for a moment. He huffs out another breath, _No turning back,_ and plasters his hands over Makoto's ears.

Makoto flinches, eyes growing wide.

"Makoto. Are you cold?" Haruka gasps when he realizes that he's got the order wrong. _I should have asked this before doing the thing with my hands._ His ears and his cheeks burn, and the chilly breeze that blows directly into his face does nothing to soothe the heat.

"Yes," Makoto chokes out. It's a small comfort that his face turns as red as Haruka's comically fast.

"So you can understand me?"

Makoto nods stiffly.

"Good. Listen closely." Haruka swallows, and it takes every ounce of energy not to avert his eyes from Makoto's green ones, glassy and unsure and expectant in the moonlight. He ignores the beating heart thumping in his throat that wants to take his voice again. "Because I like you too."

One of the bags slips out of Makoto's grasp. Haruka watches, out of the corner of his eye, how his shrink-wrapped meat tumbles down the stairs, and for a moment he's afraid that he has broken Makoto. Then, the other bag follows the first one, and Makoto lifts his hands to wrap them around Haruka's wrists. He tugs on them, moves Haruka's hands away from his ears, and rasps, "Wha— What?"

If it weren't for his very telling reaction, Haruka would think he hasn't heard him the first time. He feels brave enough though, so he repeats it nonetheless, "I said I like you too."

Makoto just watches him very intently, as if he's waiting for Haruka to burst out laughing and tell him that he's just joking. Without letting go of Haruka's wrists, he slowly lowers their hands until they rest in the space between them. "You like me… too?"

This time, Haruka nods.

Makoto's hands travel down his wrists so that he's loosely holding his hands instead. They feel warmer than Haruka's, but that might just be his imagination. "You've known all this time?"

Haruka looks down, nervous about what is coming next. "I wasn't sure. But I had a feeling."

Makoto suddenly chuckles, squeezes his hands. "Well, that feeling was right. I do like you."

If possible, Haruka's face goes even redder. Hearing it from Makoto feels vastly different from when Haruka mouthed the words to himself or puzzled them together in his mind. He tries to hide behind his scarf, but it's hard without his hands to help him, so he ends up making weird nodding gestures with his head instead while trying to hook his chin into it.

Without warning, Makoto climbs the last two stairs that separate them. Haruka takes a step back—half out of surprise, half to make space for Makoto to stand on the same level directly in front of him. "So, then, if I like you, and you like me back…" he trails off, and Haruka gets the feeling that he's supposed to supply the other part of the sentence.

He looks to the side. "We could maybe… d-date each other?"

Makoto makes a weird strangled noise at that, and he lets go of Haruka's hands to lift his arms as if to hug him, but stops in the middle of it. "Oh, ah."

Haruka watches him, questioningly. He looks funny with his arms half in the air, as if he's waiting for the wind to give him a pair of wings so that he can fly away.

"So, uh. If you—If you're comfortable with it, I mean, only if you want to—" He interrupts himself, takes a deep breath. "Would—Would it be ok to hug you?"

Haruka shrugs, doesn't know what to expect from a hug—even though his stomach gives a tiny flip at the thought. "I guess."

Makoto hums, then lowers his arms, wraps them around Haruka's shoulders and pulls him close.

Haruka lets out a gasp when he's pressed into Makoto's front. Unsure what to do with his own two arms, he lets them hang loosely down his sides until he timidly brings them up to grab the back of Makoto's jacket. It's pleasantly warm and soft.

"You feel differently from what I imagined," Makoto says lightly. "Small and soft."

Haruka huffs and smacks his back.

"Sorry," Makoto giggles, and he doesn't stop giggling for a while. "I just can't believe it. That Haru likes me back. You should have told me sooner. Do you know how much self-restraint I had to exercise in the last two months? Sometimes I wanted to steal you like a kitten from the cat café, wrap you into some shady coat and take you home with me."

 _The worst,_ Haruka thinks and groans into his jacket. "Stop, please."

Makoto does and pulls back slightly, cupping Haruka's face with his warm hands.

Haruka wants to look or turn away but ends up leaning into Makoto's hand instead. He doesn't dislike it.

"Haru," Makoto breathes, and Haruka blinks up at him. Makoto groans, buries his face in Haruka's shoulder. "Oh, don't—don't do that. Don't look at me like that."

"Why?" Haruka swallows nervously, not sure what he's done wrong.

"Because—Because you're cute—when you make that face—" he starts mumbling into Haruka's scarf, "—and I was going to ask you—if I—I was going to ask you if I could kiss you—but then you made that face—"

Haruka flushes, doesn't know which of the two things he feels more embarrassed about, and starts hitting Makoto's back again. "Then—just do it—just—"

"What?" Makoto asks, emerging from his hideout in Haruka's shoulder, stops mere inches from his face. "Do what?"

Averting his eyes, Haruka answers, silently, "Ask me."

"Ask you… oh," Makoto whispers to himself. Then, just a bit louder, "So… Can I kiss you, Haru?"

Haruka looks at him, meeting his green eyes, and he's both calm and nervous at the same time. "Yes," he whispers back just as quietly, and then Makoto leans in.

* * *

When they eventually untangle from each other, Makoto kind of forlornly looks down at himself. "But where did the grocery bags go?"

Haruka snorts. "You let them fall down the stairs. We should probably pick them up."

Makoto looks embarrassed. "Sorry. Yeah, we should. I'm actually kind of hungry."

Haruka gives him an odd look as they make their way down the stairs. "You said you don't have time. _And_ that you're tired."

Makoto just smiles at him. "I changed my mind."

 

 

 

 

 

**A few months later**

Haruka opens his drawer and starts digging through his shirts. It's definitely too cold for shirts in November, but this isn't just any day, and he's dead set on seeing this through.

He regards the shirt he'd been looking for with a scrunched up nose when he pulls it out of the pile and holds it in front of him. "… I should get paid for this."

He spends a whole shower thinking about how much he can charge Makoto for this. He comes up with various embarrassing payments—all of which have barely anything to do with real existing currencies—and quietly mumbles profanities at himself when he steps out of the shower all hot and bothered.

He grabs a fresh pair of jeans and pulls on the shirt. It doesn't even look bad, but he still frowns when he looks at himself in the living room mirror.

There's no time left to dry his hair—his doorbell rings just when he's about to walk back into the bathroom. He stops dead in his tracks. His stomach flutters uncomfortably.

Kyo rushes out of the kitchen, right past him, and sits down in front of the door. "Are you a dog?" Haruka mutters and follows her slowly.

He stands still for a moment, hands clenched into fists at his sides. He takes a deep breath in and out and wills the heat in his cheeks to go away before he opens the door for a beaming Makoto.

"Hi," Makoto says.

"Hello," Haruka replies and fights the urge to instantly cross his arms over his chest. He's so busy waiting for a reaction that he forgets to invite Makoto in.

Makoto seems confused, the smile on his lips falters ever so slightly—Haruka can read the looming 'Are you okay? What's wrong?' in his expression—and when Makoto worriedly studies Haruka, his face falls completely. "H—Haru—what—" he splutters and points at Haruka's shirt.

The urge to hide himself gets stronger with every second Makoto keeps staring at him. A drop of water from his damp hair lands on his cheek. He wipes it away. "What? It is what it looks like."

Makoto steps closer, the smile back on his face. "But. It's so cute. Why is Haru wearing something like that?"

Haruka wants to scoff at the way Makoto manages to be so delighted at a mere shirt with a large cat print on it, but instead he gives up holding Makoto's happy stare and turns away. "It's… for your birthday?" He didn't want that to come out like he's asking if this is alright.

When Makoto doesn't say anything in return, he chances a glance upwards. Makoto gapes down at him, blushing slightly. "Did you buy it for today?"

Haruka pulls at the shirt, shakes his head. "I've had it for a while, but I never wore it in front of you. So for today…"

He's cut off when Makoto literally runs into him, two cold hands clasping his face. He gasps when he's pushed two steps into the hallway, his back hitting the wall, and groans half-heartedly when Makoto starts leaving light kisses all over his face. The door falls shut, sending a wave of cold air in their direction. "Why—is—Haru—so—cute," Makoto coos between pecks.

Haruka makes a face at his chapped, cold lips. He wrenches his arm free from where it's trapped between him and Makoto and plants his hand over the other's mouth.

Makoto stops, eyeing him curiously, but even with half of his face hidden behind the hand, Haruka can still see and feel him smiling. Makoto kisses his palm instead, eyes crinkling at the corners.

"Your lips are rough," Haruka states and moves his hand away until it's resting lightly on Makoto's cheek. _Soft,_ he thinks.

As if to confirm, Makoto licks his lips. "I'm sorry," he says, although he doesn't look sorry at all.

"I don't mind," Haruka answers, because he really doesn't, stands on his tiptoes and kisses him right on the mouth. He feels Makoto's hands move to his waist, and another drop of water falls onto his nose when he pulls away. "Happy Birthday."

The smile he receives is so wide and open that he has to look away, his face a burning mess.

Makoto isn't fazed, catches the drop on Haruka's nose with his lips, the hands on Haruka's waist squeezing so softly that it almost tickles. "Thank you. You're the best boyfriend ever."

"You're welcome," Haruka says to the wall.

They both look down when Kyo finds her way between their feet, meowing for attention.

"Oh, hey there," Makoto smiles at her.

Haruka pulls at his clothes again. "Do I have to wear this for the whole day?"

"Oh?" Makoto says, looking up at him, searching. A set of cold fingers sneak under the hem of his shirt. Haruka shivers. "You don't have to."

Before his face can completely go up in flames, Haruka swats Makoto's hand away and wriggles in his arms until he gets free. "I made you cake," he just says and walks away.

"Is it chocolate?" Makoto laughs and grabs Haruka's hand when he catches up, letting himself being led into the kitchen.

Kyo meows.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading (for the first time or again). hope you enjoyed!


End file.
